


flight

by orphan_account



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Blow Jobs, Car Accidents, M/M, Nonbinary Gerard Way, Suicide, Triggers, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-08-07 23:00:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 29,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7733128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerard was done. And they meant it this time. But would Frank change that?</p><p>**TW for suicide/suicidal thoughts. Stay safe**</p><p>(this is shitty. i won't take it down, but only read it if you have low standards.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> also available on my wattpad: @justadude77
> 
> update 8/12/17 – just thought i'd drop by to say holy shit, i've improved so much as a writer and this fic lowkey makes me want to stab my younger self. it's fine.

Gerard was done. Sure, they’d been saying that for years now, but, as of late, it had become a major truth in their life. And they were prepared to end it all.

They didn’t have an exact date. That would just cause Gerard to feel unnecessarily pressured. No, there was no date set, but they knew that it would be soon. It was highly unlikely that they would ever see their next birthday, when they would turn 18. Their plan had been in the works for months upon months, each detail slowly and methodically planned out. There would be no mistakes, no loose ends. Gerard wanted a clean break, or at least, as clean as death could possibly be.

So, they’d chosen flight as their way out. Not the messiness of a gun, nor the unpredictability of a rope. No, just one chance to fly before it all ended.


	2. Ascent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also on my wattpad: @justadude77

Gerard sighed heavily as they made their way down the street to school. They hated school. All of the Starbucks-obsessed girls, athletic jocks, and the bullies whose vocabularies consisted solely of the words, "Fag," and "Your mom." Gerard would greatly have preferred to be homeschooled or something, where no one would tease them for always wearing black, or calling them a fag for wearing eyeliner. Unfortunately, their mom had to work during the day.  
Gerard's brother Mikey didn't mind school as much, though. He was fifteen, in the tenth grade, and actually had friends. Mikey even had a secret boyfriend, Pete Wentz. The 'secret' part came in because only Gerard and Pete knew that Mikey was gay. So, Mikey didn't hate school (as much). Gerard, however, despised it.

They suffered silently through a lonely morning, only slightly relieved when the lunch bell rang. Class was over, which was nice, but lunch also met more solitude and, usually, bullying. Gerard made their quiet way to their typical seat, in the shade of a tree on the outskirts of the courtyard. They had a sandwich but weren't very hungry. Instead of eating, Gerard just sat and tapped out some new melodies on their leg. They loved music, lived it, even, but they never really shared the songs they wrote with anyone.

"Hey, can I sit with you?" A voice jerked Gerard out of their thoughts, scattering the notes that had been forming. They looked up at the sound's source: a fairly short, fairly cute boy with black hair and artfully applied black eyeliner.

Gerard was surprised; no one ever asked to sit with them. Then again, they didn't recognize the guy, and they were sure that they would've remembered them if they had seen him before. So, the mysterious guy must have been new to Gerard's high school. "Uh, sure," they replied, slightly hesitant but also wanting to get to know the guy. After all, what kind of person would just walk up and ask to sit with the emo loser on their first day at a new school?

"Great," the guy said, sitting ungracefully beside Gerard against the tree trunk. "I'm Frank, by the way, Frank Iero."

“I'm Gerard Way," they said. Gerard didn't offer a handshake in greeting, which could've been considered rude, but Frank seemed to be fine with it.

Frank pulled a slice of foil-wrapped pizza from his bag, unwrapped it, and took a bite. "So, Gerard, why do you sit alone?"

They shrugged, slightly off-put by the question. What kind of person asked stuff like that? Besides, it was obvious, wasn't it? Gerard sat alone because they had no friends. Even Frank would probably migrate away tomorrow; not a lot of people liked the whole non-binary thing. "Don't really have any friends, I guess. Everyone at this school sucks."

"Even me?" Frank asked, mock-offended.

Gerard smiled a little and shook their head. "I don't know about you yet."

Frank smiled back. "I think I like you, Gerard Way."

They were surprised by that. No one really liked them; they were alone. "Why?"

"Because you're nice enough to let the new kid sit with you, and because you're pretty."

Gerard ignored the 'nice' comment and repeated, "Pretty?" They weren't pretty. Their hair hadn't been washed in several days, their hastily applied eyeliner was rough and just a tad too thick, and they had some serious bags under their eyes from one too many nights of no sleep.

Frank nodded. "Yeah, you're pretty. Not to creep you out or anything, but you're really, really pretty. No homo, though, unless, of course. . ." He let that hang in the air, tossing Gerard a casual yet surprisingly sexy wink.

Gerard blushed. They weren't gay, because they weren't a boy, but they certainly liked boys. And Frank, well, Frank was a cute boy. "Well, not homo, exactly."  
Frank looked confused, so Gerard continued. They were slightly hesitant about sharing this with a guy they'd just met, like, five minutes ago, but it just felt right. "Frank, I'm non-binary, meaning I'm not a boy or a girl. And I use they/them pronouns."

"Oh. That's okay with me, you know. Hell, you could be anything and I'd still think you're pretty. I'll just say, though, I've never met anyone non-binary before, so if I mess up with the pronouns, I'm sorry."

Gerard sighed quietly with relief. "Oh, that's fine. You've probably reacted the most calmly out of everyone I've told so far."

"What do you mean?" asked Frank.  
"Well, when I told my younger brother Mikey, he was just really confused and asked if I'd been on Tumblr a little too much, and my parents, well, let's just say that they took a while to come around. No one at school really knows because there's no one that I would actually tell."

"You told me," Frank pointed out. "And we literally just met five minutes ago."

"I know," Gerard sighed. "But it just. . .it felt right to tell you."

"Oh." The pair sat in a comfortable silence until the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. "Hey, Gerard, can we do this again tomorrow?" Frank asked.

"Sure," replied Gerard, picking up their bag and slinging it over one shoulder. "See ya, Frank."

"See ya, Gerard."

Gerard spent the rest of the afternoon in mental turmoil. They liked Frank, they really did. Frank was cute. Frank was okay with them being non-binary. Frank thought they were pretty. It was just that. . . . Gerard was leaving. They weren't sure of when it would be, but they were leaving. And the last thing that Gerard wanted was to hurt more people than they absolutely had to. The advantages of having no friends, they supposed. But maybe Frank was going to be a friend. Maybe even more than a friend. They would like that, but then Gerard would just hurt him when they left. Because even with a friend/maybe more than a friend, Gerard couldn't bear to stay much longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the chapter:) Have a great day!


	3. I Think I Might Like It This Way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also on my wattpad: @justadude77

Gerard looked around, searching the modest sea of people in the courtyard for Frank. Unfortunately, the cute boy was nowhere to be seen. _Where the hell is he?_ Gerard thought. Yesterday after lunch, Frank had promised that he would see Gerard tomorrow, but lunch had started almost five minutes ago, and there was no sign of him.

Of course, Gerard wasn't really surprised. No one stayed, really. They were alone. Always alone. _Alone, alone, alone. . ._ Gerard tapped their fingers on their leg, fingering possible chords to accompany the words in their head. They were always, always alone. _Besides,_ they silently reasoned. I _t's better if he stays away. He won't get hurt that way._

Despite that mindset, Gerard still kind of wished to have someone to talk to again. It was almost nice, really. But that didn't mean that they were staying. No, Gerard was still leaving as soon as they had wrapped all of the loose ends up and were 100% ready. They just had to finish a final song or two to leave behind, and while yesterday had made them think that they would have to say goodbye to Frank as well, that no longer seemed to be the case.

With a sigh, Gerard leaned their head back against the tree trunk and closed their eyes, imagining the bliss of never opening them again. There were some things that Gerard would miss after death (but they wouldn't possess the capability to miss or feel anything, so it didn't matter), like the sound of leaves rustling in the breeze, and the bite of a metal string into their fingertips. But the appeal of leaving, of an end, was so much stronger than any lingering nostalgia for the shitty world they resided in.

So soon, Gerard would take a flight. They'd already decided on the location: the Bryar Co. building. It was twenty-five stories high, had roof access, and, best of all, Gerard could get in anytime because they knew Bob Bryar, the company owner's son. When it was time, all they had to do was catch a ride into the city and go find Bob.

Gerard already knew that they would do it at night. They loved the idea of having the stars witness their flight, their fall, their death. So, preferably, it would be a clear night. Then all of the stars could see as one meaningless person escaped from the hell that was the world. Maybe the stars would envy them. Maybe they would pity them. Maybe- "Gerard? You okay?" Gerard's eyes shot open to the sight of a very concerned Frank Iero peering down at them. "Are you okay? You looked. . .upset."

They shook their head a little and sighed. "No, I'm fine, it's fine. Just lost in thought, I guess. Where were you? I thought you weren't coming back."

"Oh, sorry about that. My teacher held me back for calling her a bitch in class." As he spoke, Frank sat down next to Gerard, maybe just a little closer than normal friends would sit.

Gerard laughed at that, shoving down the dark thoughts and pulling up their HighSchoolReject™ personality. "Which teacher?"

Frank grinned and replied, "Mrs. Winters."

"Oh, she is such a bitch! Nice job," Gerard said.

"Thanks. But I'm sorry for leaving you alone. I came over here as fast as I could when she let me go."

"Nah, it's fine. I just tend to overreact to everything, and I'm not really used to people sticking around, or even really talking to me at all," they explained.

"That's actually pretty depressing, Gee-can I call you Gee?"

Gerard smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I like that. And, really, it's not that bad, being alone. I-I'm writing a song about it, actually." Whatever the hell had possessed them to say that, Gerard had no idea. No one other than Mikey knew about their music, and only Gerard had ever heard it. Yet here they were, telling a guy that they'd met yesterday about it.

"Really?" said Frank, obviously oblivious to how secret Gerard's song writing was. "Do you think you could, I don't know, play it for me sometime?"

"Sure," Gerard said, shocking themself. "Are you busy after school today?"

"Nope."

"Great! You can come over to my place. If you want to, that is," Gerard added, their insecurities creeping in and making themselves known.

Frank smiled. "Of course I want to. What else would I even do? It's not like I have any other friends."

Gerard frowned at that. How were they supposed to leave Frank alone? Frank didn't deserve that. But then again, it had to be done. Gerard had to leave. Gerard couldn't handle both the world and the difficult job of hanging on to their sanity.

"You should make other friends," they stated firmly.

"Why bother?" Frank asked. "I have you."

_Not for long,_ Gerard thought, feeling both bitter and relieved by the words. "Yeah, but I'm just me. Nothing special."

"'Just me?'" Frank snorted. "Gerard Way, you really do not give yourself any credit, do you?"

They shrugged. "Not really."

Frank shook his head good-naturedly and casually slung his arm around Gerard. "Well, Gee, I think that we need to change that, because while I've only known you for two days, I already really like you and want to know you better. So tell me something about you."

Gerard was mostly focused on the comforting presence of Frank's hoodie-covered arm around their shoulders. "What is there to tell?" they asked, slightly leaning into Frank's touch in a not-very-platonic manner.

"A lot, I'm sure. But let's start simple, I guess. What's your favorite color?" said Frank.

"Black," Gerard replied, without a moment's hesitation. "Definitely black. What's yours?"

Frank thought for a moment before answering, "Dark blue."

"Why?"

"Because it's the color of the night sky just before everything just turns black. I love that time, those last few seconds of blue before darkness. But I want to know more about you. How old are you?"

"I'm seventeen, turning eighteen next April."

"So, about six months until you're an adult."

"Yeah. What about you?"

"I'm sixteen right now, and my birthday's in. . . .what's today's date?"

"October. . .12th, I think," Gerard supplied.

Frank thought for a moment. "Yeah, that sounds right. In that case, I'll be turning seventeen in just nineteen days."

"Halloween baby, then," Gerard observed.

Frank nodded. "Yeah. So, I didn't really have any plans, but. . .would you want to hang out then? Not like a party or anything, just me and you chilling at my place or something?"

"Yeah, that could be fun." _If I'm alive then._

"Cool. Lunch is almost over now, but I'll meet you at the bottom of the front steps after last period today, okay?"

"Okay. I can't wait, Frank." Gerard rose, silently lamenting the loss of Frank's arm around them.

Frank smiled as he stood as well. "Me neither."

* * *

The rest of the school day passed excruciatingly slowly for Gerard. They just wanted the final bell to ring so they could see Frank again. This way of thinking was bad, Gerard knew. They couldn't get attached to anyone or anything in this world. They had to leave, and leave with a clean break, or else they would go crazy and end up in a mental institution having hallucinations and getting messages from cornflakes.

Finally, though, the bell rang, and Gerard was free from the confines of their classroom. They walked out to the front of the school as quickly as they could, a small smile spreading across their face when they saw Frank waiting there. "Hey, Gee," he greeted.

"Hey, Frank," Gerard replied, starting to slowly walk down the sidewalk, Frank right beside him. "My house is about three minutes from here; I live really close."

"You do," Frank agreed. "I normally have to take a bus, because my house is an almost twenty minute walk, and well, I'm not exactly the most athletic or fit person out there."

Gerard laughed a bit at that. "Me neither. You know something, Frank?"

"What?"

"I think I really like you. You have officially been declared the first student at Monroeville High School to not completely suck."

Frank grinned. "Oh, believe me, Gee, I most definitely suck. And I swallow." 

If Gerard had been drinking water at the time, they would have choked on it. As it was, they blushed a fierce vermillion and gasped, "Frank!"

The slightly evil and extremely cute boy just laughed. "Your face, Gee, it's adorable. I think I need to make you. . .flustered more often." He winked deviously and Gerard blushed even harder.

"Frank," Gerard complained, their tone assuring him that they weren't actually mad.

"Okay, I'll stop-for now," Frank allowed. "Are we almost there?"

Gerard nodded. "Yeah, just around this corner."

The pair turned the corner, and Gerard led Frank up the gravel driveway to their house, which was currently vacant. Noticing the empty driveway, Frank asked, "Is anyone else here?"

Gerard shook their head. "No, Mom's at work, Mikey's probably out with his friends somewhere, and Dad ran out on us two years ago, when I first told him that I was non-binary." Frank frowned, hating hearing about any pain or unpleasantness in Gerard's life. "

I'm sorry, Gee." They just shrugged dismissively. "It's okay, he was an asshole anyway."

Gerard led the way into the house, politely opening the door for Frank. As he stepped inside, they couldn't help but self-consciously wonder, Does Frank like the house? Is it too messy? Wait- did I leave any embarrassing shit on my bedroom floor?

"Here's my room," said Gerard, pushing open the door and revealing the small, dimly lit space within. Thankfully, their floor was clear, save for one dirty sock, which Gerard quickly scooped up and shoved under their bed. Frank looked around for a moment, taking it all in: the light gray walls, the nondescript queen bed shoved in one corner, the closed blinds over the small window, the cluttered desk covered with bits and pieces of what appeared to be song lyrics, and the guitar nestled in its stand in the corner.

Gerard tried to fill the silence with words, saying how the room didn't have much personality overall, but that was only because everything about them here came from the lonely instrument waiting for a player.

Frank just smiled at their chatter and said, "Do you think you could play me that song you mentioned earlier? The one about being alone?"

Gerard replied,"Okay, but let me play something else first, something that I didn't write. It's less daunting that way."

"Sounds good," said Frank, smiling.

And Gerard was only slightly nervous about playing for him because, hey, this was Frank, and Frank could be trusted. That much they could tell from the short amount of time they had spent with him. Of course, Gerard wasn't really quite sure where their initial and steadfast trust in Frank had come from, but the fact remained that it was there. It probably came from Frank's open and welcoming personality, not to mention just how goddamn cute he was.

But Gerard couldn't dwell on that now, Frank was waiting for them to play. So Gerard got their guitar and sat on the bed, and Frank sat next to them. Then, once they had briefly checked to make sure that it was still tuned, Gerard began to play, voice and strumming becoming gradually more confident as they went. They started with a simple song, a classic: Adam's Song by Blink 182. As they played, Gerard refused to let their voice betray just how close to home some of the lyrics hit. Finally, the song was over, and Frank applauded perhaps a little more than the performance constituted. Of course, Gerard wasn't going to call him out on it.

"Any requests?" asked Gerard.

Frank considered the question for a moment before replying, "Yeah, can you play Growing Up by Fall Out Boy?"

In lieu of a verbal response, Gerard strummed the first chord and began to sing softly. Frank joined in a few lines later, and the two began an impromptu duet. About three-quarters of the way through the song, Mikey Way walked into Gerard's room, having heard the extra voice, saw the pair sitting just a tad closer than most friends would, and eloquently exclaimed, "What the fuck?"

Gerard stopped strumming and looked up abruptly. "Oh, hey, Mikey."

"Who's this?" Mikey asked.

"Oh, sorry, this is Frank, a friend of mine from school. Frank, this is my brother Mikey," Gerard explained.

"Nice to meet you, Frank, but, Gerard, I thought you hated everyone at school," said Mikey, confused.

"Frank's new. And he's really nice."

Frank blushed a bit at that.

'"Okay, that's all fine and dandy, I'm really glad that you're making friends, Gerard. I'm just surprised that you're playing guitar for him. I mean, we're brothers, and you've played for me once."

Gerard shrugged. "I don't know, Mikey. Frank is just. . .different. I like him."

The initial surprise of his anti-social sibling having a friend over wearing off, Miley decided to take his leave. "That's cool. Hope to see you around again, Frank."

Once the younger Way brother had left, Frank turned to Gerard and said, "What did he mean, you've only played for him once? You're like, amazing."

Gerard absently plucked a string and said, "I don't know. I don't usually play for people. But you...for some reason, I felt like I could, so I did."

"Okay," replied Frank, quite touched to be chosen by the beautiful person that was Gerard Way. "Do you still want to play the song you mentioned earlier? If you're okay with it, I'd love to hear something that you created."

After a moment of thought ( _Am I letting him in too close? Should I stop before he gets to close to not be hurt? Or would it hurt him more now to be rejected? I mean, I already told him that I would play this_ ), Gerard decided that they would. "Yes, I'll play it," they told Frank.

They carefully placed their fingers across the strings and began.

" _I was alone, alone, alone_

_And that's how I liked it_

_That's how it always was_

_Just alone, alone, alone_

_But one day you found me_

_I wasn't alone, alone, alone_

_And I was scared_

_Not alone, alone, alone_

_I was scared of getting close_

_I was always alone, you know_

_But now I think I like_

_Having someone beside me_

_I was alone, alone, alone_

_And that's how I liked it_

_But one day you found me_

_Now I'm not alone, alone, alone_

_And I think I might like it this way_ "

As they sang the last verse, Gerard realized that when they left, Frank would be alone. They didn't want that, they didn't want to hurt him, or anyone else for that matter. But when it came down to it, Gerard, selfish bastard that they were, would choose their sanity and death over saving a couple of hearts from being broken.

And so, as they sang the words, " _Alone, alone, alone,_ " they found themself beginning to cry, and by the very last word of the song, Gerard was practically sobbing.

"Gee, that was amazing. Are you okay?" Frank asked, concerned, as he gently brushed a long strand of straight black hair away from Gerard's face.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine, j-just got a little t-too into it, that's all," Gerard managed, but it was obvious that they, for reasons unknown to Frank, actually weren't fine.

So Frank shifted the guitar to Gerard's side, leaned in, and held them close, not caring about the teardrops wetting the shoulder of his black hoodie. Inside of Frank's comforting embrace, Gerard inhaled deeply, reveling in the soothing scent that could only be described as Frank Iero. They focused on that instead of their impending suicide, and it helped tremendously in the arduous process of calming down.

Finally, Gerard was calmed down enough to remove their face from Frank's shoulder, but Frank still kept his arms around Gerard, holding him close and tight. Gerard's beautiful hazel eyes, tinged red and surrounded with watery streaks of eyeliner, met Frank's, and before either of them really knew what was happening, Frank was leaning in and Gerard was closing their eyes and all of sudden, the two were kissing.

The meeting of their lips was soft, gentle, and soothing, mouths moving against each other in a calming dance. Suddenly, though, Gerard realized that what was happening was only going to end up hurting Frank more in the long run, and they regretfully pulled away, shaking their head.

"I'm sorry, Frank, but I can't. I can't. Can you just go? Please? I'm really, really sorry, but now just isn't a great time. Okay?"

Frank looked slightly hurt but overall more concerned for Gerard as he replied, "Okay, Gee. I'm sorry, I should've asked first, that was stupid of me, I'm sorry-"

"It's not your fault, Frank, I just can't do this right now. Can we talk another time?" Gerard's tears were beginning to return. They were obviously hurting Frank right now, but wouldn't it be better to hurt him a little bit now then a lot later?

Frank simply nodded, hurt but understanding, and left, leaving Gerard alone on the bed, wondering whether or not to leave that very night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed:) have a marvelous day/night!


	4. A Different Kind Of Fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also on my wattpad: @justadude77

In the end, Gerard decided to stay for at least another day, mostly because leaving then would render them incapable of a proper goodbye to anyone. And saying a proper goodbye was part of their plan to tie up all of the loose ends their death could leave, so they wouldn't feel completely satisfied with death. Not yet, anyway. Gerard had moments where they almost felt okay, like when they were singing Fall Out Boy with Frank, but those moments were few and far between. They still helped Gerard a bit, though. After all, it wasn't that they just wanted to leave anyone, but they felt like they had to leave. Gerard knew that they had to leave. And they would.

And that was why they had kicked Frank out last night. True, kissing him had been absolutely wonderful, almost perfect, really, but they didn't want to hurt him too much when they left. So Gerard hoped that Frank would stay away. It pained them, but it was better to not get close. Getting close meant wanting to stay, and wanting to meant actually staying, and staying meant insanity and an even deeper hatred of the world and nearly everyone in it. So now, Gerard was back to sitting alone under the tree. Hopefully, Frank had gotten the message that Gerard wanted to be alone and would stay away. Gerard scanned the courtyard, and yes, Frank was staying away.

In fact, he was on the opposite end of the courtyard, talking with-was that Mikey? They squinted a bit to make out the figure, and sure enough, their little brother was talking with Frank Iero. What the hell? Why on earth would Frank be talking with their brother? It wasn't like Mikey was super approachable, in fact, the younger Way preferred a, 'Come closer than five feet and I'll fucking kill you' aura, one that he had perfected over the years. Even his small friend group knew better than to do anything that might annoy Mikey Way. He, after all, knew everything there was to know about almost anyone, and wouldn't hesitate to share someone's darkest secrets. True, Frank was new at Monroeville High, but surely he already knew not to mess with Mikey.

Gerard hoped he did, anyway. As they observed the conversation from afar, Gerard wondered if Mikey and Frank were talking about them. They probably were; Frank was probably telling Mikey all about Gerard's actions last night and just how much of an asshole they were. And Gerard was an asshole, weren't they? Frank had kissed them, and they'd kissed back, only to shove him away and kick him out. Gerard sighed. It would be so goddamn easy to just walk out of school right now, go home, scribble some goodbyes on paper, and then go to the city and kill themself once the stars rose. They really could, it would be all too easy. And Gerard considered it. They pondered what it would be like for this day to be their last day alive. Before they made a solid choice, though, the lunch bell rang, and Gerard had to go to class, internally screaming at themself for not being strong enough to do what needed to be done.

When the final bell rang, Gerard rose from their desk, severely lacking the motivation to move that they'd possessed just yesterday afternoon. Of course, Frank had been waiting yesterday, but now Gerard would have to walk alone. They were used to that, though, so it wasn't that big of a deal. As they walked the familiar streets, Gerard wondered if Frank would ever talk to them again. _Probably not_ , they thought. _I mean, sure, we kissed, but I'm an asshole and made him leave_. Gerard sighed almost regretfully as they entered their room. Playing guitar was really Gerard's only escape from the pain and awfulness of reality. So, almost as soon as they were home, they pulled out the instrument and began softly strumming a random tune, melancholy and wistful sounding. Gerard liked it and decided to put words to it later. For the time being, though, they were content to simply listen to the gentle vibrations of the strings.

"Gerard? Can I come in?" Mikey's voice came from behind the closed door.

"Uh, sure," they replied. _Is Mikey here to talk about Frank?_

The younger Way sibling entered the room and sat down on the bed next to Gerard. "So. . .Frank talked to me at lunch today."

_Knew it._ "I saw. What did he say?"

Mikey hesitated. "He told me about how you two kissed but then you kicked him out last night. Care to explain?"

Gerard looked away, wincing slightly. "I-I don't even know, Mikey. I like Frank, I really, really, do, he's nice and cute and funny and I feel like I can trust him, but. . ." _But I'm going to kill myself, and I don't want to hurt him when I do._

"But. . .?" Mikey prompted.

Gerard sighed and shrugged. "I just feel like it's going to end with him getting hurt, you know?"

"What makes you say that?"

"Well, for starters, I'm an asshole." _Yeah, a suicidal asshole._

"Gerard-"

"Don't," they said. "I'm an asshole, and I'm going to end up hurting Frank."

Mikey pursed his lips. He was more like an older brother, honestly, considering how protective of Gerard he was. "I think you should give it a chance, Gerard. Frank seems like a really good person. I mean, he even remembered to say 'they' when he was telling me about last night."

"He did?" Gerard asked, surprised.

Mikey nodded. "Yeah. He obviously cares about you. Try and talk to him at lunch tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay. I'll try."

"Great." Mikey checked the time on his phone. "Oh, by the way, Pete's coming over in, like, five minutes."

Gerard rolled his eyes. "Just try and keep it down, would you? Most people don't like hearing their brother fuck his boyfriend."

"Shut up!" Mikey complained, rising from the bed and leaving the room.

"Use protection!" called Gerard, laughing. Mikey just aggressively closed the door.

Once their brother was gone, Gerard placed their guitar back on its stand and flopped back onto the bed. Would they actually try and talk to Frank tomorrow? Gerard decided that they would; they'd promised Mikey, after all. And while the Way siblings didn't always get along, they were always there for each other. Gerard was the one who'd finally gotten Mikey to admit that he liked Pete and act on those feelings, and now it seemed that Mikey was trying to return the favor with Frank. Unfortunately, Gerard didn't know if they wanted their brother's schemes to work or not.

* * *

The next day in school, as Gerard sat in class waiting for the lunch bell to ring, they found themself quite nervous about talking to Frank. Would he come to them? Or would they have to go find him? As the minutes passed, they grew progressively more anxious. Would Frank forgive them for hurting him? All too soon (yet not quite soon enough), the bell rang, and Gerard made their nervous way out into the courtyard. They decided that they would just go and sit where they always did, and if they saw Frank, they would invite him over. That plan, however, quickly became pointless, as Frank was already relaxing against the tree trunk. His eyes lit up when he saw Gerard walking over, but they could see that he too was slightly nervous about the inevitable contact.

"Hey," Frank said softly as Gerard sat down next to him.

"Hey," Gerard replied. "Look, I'm really sorry about the other day, I-"

"No, I'm sorry, Gee. I should've asked you if kissing you was okay, but you were just so pretty, and I couldn't help myself, and-"

Gerard shook their head. "It's fine, you're fine. I kissed you back, after all. I just. . .I can't shake the feeling that if whatever this " -they gestured to themself and Frank- "is continues, you're going to end up getting hurt."

Frank looked Gerard dead in the eye, and they found themselves caught in his intense gaze. "Gerard Way, I have two things to say to that utter bullshit: 1) you're not going to hurt me, and 2) even if you do, I couldn't care less, because I think I'm already kind of falling in love with you. Got it?"

Gerard nodded, trying to silence the voice in the back of their head that was whispering, _You're still going to hurt him. You should just kill yourself now_. "You know what, Frank Iero? I think I might be already kind of falling in love with you too." The words kind of left Gerard's mouth of their own accord, they normally weren't the type to openly share their feelings, but with Frank, it was different.

Frank smiled, and it was a truly adorable sight. "So. . .are we, like, dating now, or. . .?"

"Yes. We're dating. If you want to, that is."

Frank rolled his eyes. "Of course I want to, you adorable freaking idiot." And then he leaned over and very gently kissed Gerard's cheek, and this time, they didn't pull away.

"Do you want to hang out after-school? I promise I won't kick you out of my house this time," Gerard joked.

Frank laughed. "I'd love to."

* * *

" _Oh_ , P-Pete _, fuck_!"

"Mikey, I-I'm close, _oh_!"

Gerard cringed at the noises coming from the other side of the too-thin wall. "Sorry, Frank. Pete and Mikey don't exactly get the concept of 'quiet.'"

"It's fine. You know, we could get revenge very easily," Frank said slyly.

"H-how?" Gerard stammered, mind instantly traveling to not-so-appropriate places.

Frank just winked and let a very dirty moan. "Oh, _Gerard_!" he exclaimed, laying back on the bed and moving a bit so the bedsprings creaked.

Gerard quickly caught on to Frank's plan and joined in, letting out an extremely sexual moan. The two continued to make sex noises, progressively getting louder and more obscene. Meanwhile, the other couple's "activities" had ceased, leaving them to wonder what the hell Frank and Gerard were doing on their side of the wall.

Finally, Mikey apparently snapped, and shouted, "WHAT THE HELL, YOU TWO? YOU MET FOUR FUCKING DAYS AGO!" Gerard and Frank just dissolved into hysterics, and Gerard's side-splitting laughter killed their slight hard-on, thankfully. (That could've gotten really awkward really fast.)

Once their laughter had subsided, Frank leaned in and kissed Gerard for real. He was still gentle, though, not wanting Gerard to push him away again. But they weren't planning on that this time. Now, Gerard liked Frank, and Frank liked Gerard, so why couldn't Gerard kiss Frank? True, letting Frank in only to commit suicide later wasn't exactly the nicest thing to do, but fuck being nice. Gerard was going to be gone soon enough, and as for Frank, well, it was better to have loved and lost than not have loved at all, right?

So Gerard didn't push Frank away, and the couple just lay on Gerard's bed kissing for a while. Neither of them took it farther than a tiny bit of tongue, and the whole thing was very calm, languid, and romantic. It was almost an hour before Gerard finally separated their lips from Frank's, and then they threw a loose arm around Frank's torso and snuggled their head into his shoulder, once again finding a sense of comfort in home in his scent. Frank hummed contentedly and brushed through Gerard's long hair with his fingers. "I'd better be getting home soon, Gee, it's late."

Though they knew Frank's words to be true, Gerard was reluctant to let go of their boyfriend. "Stay," they mumbled, not removing their face from Frank's shoulder.

"I'm sorry, baby, but I have to go." Frank wasn't quite sure where the 'baby' had come from, but he liked it. "C'mon, Gee, sit up." Frank sat up slowly, causing Gerard to follow suit, as their arm was still draped around him.

Gerard knew that Frank had to go, and they knew that they should let him go, but they just couldn't bring themself to be apart from Frank. "I don't wanna, Frank. You smell nice."

Frank laughed a little at that. Gerard was certainly very cute when they got all clingy. "I smell nice?"

"Yes. You smell very nice."

"Tell you what then, baby. If you let me go for tonight, I'll give you my hoodie. Then it'll be like having me with you."

Gerard considered this for a moment. They didn't want to let Frank go, but...let's just say that they were a bit of a jacket slut. "Okay," Gerard eventually agreed, sitting up and off of Frank.

Frank smiled and shrugged out of his black hoodie, handing it to Gerard. "Here you go, Gee."

They took it, but Gerard's attention had landed on the swirls of ink adorning Frank's arm. "Are those real tattoos?" they asked, admiring the numerous designs drawn on the pale skin.

Frank nodded. "Yeah. Back before I moved here-I used to live further up north-I knew a guy who knew a guy who did tattoos, so he hooked me up and I got these done last summer."

"They're beautiful," Gerard breathed, tracing the outline of a star with their finger. "I could never get tattoos, I'm too scared of needles."

"Really?" said Frank.

Gerard nodded. "Yeah, I don't really know why, but I've always hated needles. Getting shots at the doctor's was my worst fear as a child."

"Well, I'll make sure to keep needles away from you, Gee." Frank smiled.

Gerard laughed. "Thanks."

"I really have to get going now, though. My parents don't like it when I'm out too late."

"Okay. See you tomorrow?"

"Of course, baby."

And then the two kissed for the last time, and Gerard walked Frank to the door and watched him disappear down the street into the setting sun. The sky was already beginning its progression into darkness, into Frank's favorite dark blue. Once Frank was out of sight, Gerard went back inside and grabbed his hoodie, putting it on and zipping it up. It fit well, like a hug, and best of all, it smelled just like Frank. Gerard walked back to their room in a contented haze, their depression momentarily held at bay by the glory that was Frank Iero.

On their way, they passed Mikey's room. He was lying on the bed with Pete, and when he saw Gerard, he asked, "What the fuck were you and Frank doing earlier?"

Laughing a little, Gerard answered, "Getting revenge."

"What do you mean?"

"You and Pete were being really loud earlier, so Frank and I just sat in my room and made random sex noises," Gerard explained, greatly amused by the look on Mikey's face.

"So. . .you weren't fucking or anything."

"No, we were just talking and kissing and stuff."

Mikey held up his hands. "Okay, I don't want to hear the cute little details, just as long as you two weren't going at it after knowing each other for less than a week."

Gerard rolled their eyes. "Okay. Can you at least try to be little quieter next time, though?"

"Maybe," said Pete. "I like making Mikey scream."

"TMI!" complained Gerard, walking into their room and closing the door tightly. That night, they slept the best that they'd slept in a long time, inhaling the scent of Frank all night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed the chapter! I'd love any feedback:) have a fantastic day/night!


	5. Crash

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also on my wattpad: @justadude77

For Gerard and Frank, the next few weeks passed in a comfortable blur of late night phone calls, numerous stolen hoodies(Gerard really was a jacket slut.), and many, many kisses. Gerard being the virgin that they were, though, nothing beyond kisses ever happened. October was coming to a close before either Frank or Gerard realized it, and before the two knew it, it was Halloween and Frank's birthday.

"Are you still up for hanging out tonight?" Frank asked. He and Gerard were, as always, eating lunch under what had kind of become _their_ tree. It was Friday the 31st, and Frank was now seventeen.

"Of course," Gerard replied. "I have a gift for you."

"You didn't have to get me anything, Gee."

They shrugged. "I know. But I wanted to."

Frank sighed contentedly and leaned against Gerard. "You're fucking amazing, you know that?"

Blushing, Gerard answered, "I guess you're rubbing off on me then."

"Sap," Frank good-naturedly scoffed.

"You know you love it," said Gerard.

"Oh, whatever."

They both fell silent, the two emo losers leaning against each other in the corner of the courtyard, and Gerard felt almost okay. Frank helped them so much without realizing it; Gerard was even vaguely considering staying. After all, with Mikey and Frank by their side, life didn't completely suck. It only sucked, like, 87%.

* * *

"So, do you want to walk to take the bus back to my place? Like I said before, it's a bit of a walk," Frank said.

"Walking is fine with me if you want to. I don't like public transportation that much anyway. People are annoying."

Frank laughed. "Okay."

They set off down the sidewalk, holding hands loosely. "My dad's off on a work trip this week, so you won't be able to meet him. My mom's home, though. I've told her a lot about you, actually."

Gerard smiled a bit, then asked, "Does she know that I'm non-binary?"

Frank shook his head. "I'm sure she'll be fine with it, but I didn't want to tell her without you."

"Thanks, Frank," Gerard said sincerely, giving their boyfriend's hand an affectionate squeeze.

Frank squeezed back, and Gerard felt pretty damn close to okay for once because they knew that Frank cared about them, maybe even loved them, and that was wonderful. "So, do you have any siblings?" Gerard inquired.

"Nope, and I don't know if I'm thankful for that or not."

Gerard laughed a little. "I get what you're saying. Some days, I just want to slap Mikey across his rude asshole face, and other times, I'm thankful as hell that he's my brother. I mean, yeah, he can be a complete ass at times, but he's still family, you know? Mikey's helped me out of more jams than I can count, and I would do the same thing for him in a heartbeat."

"You really care about him, don't you?" Frank commented.

Gerard nodded. "I do, I really do. We look out for each other and all of that shit. No worries, though - he's not competition for you or anything," they joked.

Frank chuckled. "What a relief."

The sun was warm on Gerard's back, the black fabric of Frank's old hoodie absorbing the heat. Gerard could probably say that they were the most content with life they'd been in a long time, walking in the pleasant autumn air with their perfect boyfriend. Maybe they would stay for a little longer than originally planned. Emphasis on _maybe_. "I like spending time with you, Gee," Frank remarked suddenly.

"Well, I would certainly hope so," replied Gerard, smiling the smile that only Frank could pull out of them."And you know what, Frank Iero? I think I like spending time with you, too."

"That's good," said Frank with a grin.

Gerard looked over at their adorable yet extremely sexy boyfriend and sighed happily. "What?" Frank asked.

"Just. . .you," answered Gerard. "I really, really like you, ya know?"

Frank blushed. "Well, I really, really, really like you."

Gerard blushed a bit too, and the two emo outcasts just stood on the sidewalk for a moment, reveling in the jubilance and innocence that was having the other person there with them. And, yeah, in that moment, for the first time in a really long time, Gerard was happy. And they. . .well, they almost wanted to stay. With Frank. Alive. Until a natural death separated them from the boy they kinda-sorta-maybe loved. But life would never let that last for too long, now would it? Yes, soon enough, life would throw poor Gerard Way yet another curveball, and, well, let’s just say that their survival was rather unlikely.

* * *

"So you're Gerard? I've heard so much about you!" said Mrs. Iero, upon seeing the couple enter the house. "Frank just never shuts up about you, you know," she added in a conspiratorial whisper that Frank obviously could hear.

"Mo-om," he complained, annoyed. Gerard just laughed at their embarrassed boyfriend.

"Oh, I'm sure. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Iero."

"Oh, please, call me Linda. Now, come on in, sit down, dinner's almost ready." She bustled off into the kitchen, from which Gerard could smell a homey aroma, making them think wistfully of the days when their dad was still around and their mom was actually home most of the time and the entire family would sit down each night to enjoy a home-cooked meal together. They shook off the vague sadness and followed Frank into his dining room, where the table was already set.

Frank pulled out a chair for Gerard and jokingly said, "For you, m'lady."

Gerard laughed and played along, saying, "Why thank you, good sir." They even batted their eyelashes a bit for good measure, causing Frank to let out a short bark of laughter before he too sat down, taking the seat across from Gerard at the four-sided table. Just then, Mrs. Iero strode in, arms laden with a large pot of spaghetti and meatballs.

"This is Frank's favorite meal; remember that, dear," she said as she served both Frank and Gerard heaping portions of the steaming pasta. Frank's cheeks turned pink again, and Gerard smiled. They really couldn't have picked a better boyfriend.

Mrs. Iero finally sat down and lifted her glass of water. "A toast," she proposed. "In honor of Frank's seventeenth birthday."

The three clinked the rims of their glasses and took small sips before digging into the delicious food. "This is great, Mom, as always," said Frank, mouth half-full of food.

Mrs. Iero shook her head, smiling. "Manners, Frank. No need to scare Gerard away after only a month."

Gerard chuckled. "No worries, I think I'll be sticking with him for a while, regardless of his table manners."

"Thanks, Gee," Frank said (thankfully, he waited until he had swallowed his food to speak that time).

"So, Gerard," stated Mrs. Iero. "The boy who stole my son's heart. Tell me about you."

At her use of the word 'boy,' Gerard's eyes had nervously flicked to Frank, who now gave them a reassuring nod and smile. "Well, uh, I-I'm not a boy."

Mrs. Iero's eyebrows raised, but she patiently waited for Gerard to continue.

"I, um, I'm non-binary, which means that I'm not really a boy or a girl. And I, I prefer they/them pronouns." There. They'd said it.

"That's completely fine, honey, don't worry. What else should I know about you?"

Gerard shrugged and took a bite of the mouthwatering food. "There's nothing else big, I'm really just an average seventeen year old."

"Not true," argued Frank, pointing his fork at Gerard. "You're freaking amazing, remember?"

Gerard blushed. "Well, I do play a bit of guitar, and-"

"And they are fucking great at it, I might add," Frank interjected.

"Language, Frank," Mrs. Iero reminded her son.

"Sorry. My point is that Gerard is the best damn - I mean, darn, the best _darn_ guitar player I've ever heard."

"I think that's great, Gerard. You know, I tried to get Frank into playing the piano once, when he was in second grade. Let's just say that it wasn't exactly his thing."

Gerard laughed at that, their brain conjuring up an image of an eight year old Frank tapping away at the keys of a piano frustratedly.

"Mom, I think that that is more than enough embarrassment for one dinner, thank you very much," Frank protested.

"Okay, I won't even mention the time that you completely wiped out when we went skiing two years ago, or the time that you scored a point for the other team when you played rec league soccer in kindergarten, or the time th-"

"MOM!"

* * *

"Your mom's nice," Gerard commented later. Dinner was over, Mrs. Iero had gone out to a Halloween celebration, and Gerard and Frank were simply lying on Frank's queen-sized bed and talking.

"Yeah, when she's not embarrassing the hell out of me," grumbled Frank. With his scowl and dark eyeliner, Frank's face was the epitome of awkward high school emo, which was kind of what he was anyway.

"Hey, Frank, do you want your birthday present now?" Gerard asked, suddenly remembering the small package that they had stowed away in the pocket of Frank's -well, it was more Gerard's now- hoodie.

"Sure, Gee. But you better not get me anything next year, got it?"

_Will I even have a next year with Frank? More importantly, do I want a next year with Frank, alive, on this shitty-ass planet?_ Gerard silently wondered, giving Frank a verbal response of, "Okay. No presents next year." They then reached into their pocket and pulled out the flat, poorly wrapped parcel they'd been carrying. Frank accepted it and carefully pulled off the messy newspaper wrappings to reveal a CD labeled, 'For Frank ;) XOXO, Gee.'

He hopped off of the bed and went over to his CD player, placing the disc inside and hitting PLAY. After a moment, Gerard's voice, only slightly altered by the recording, filled the silence. _'Hey, Frank. Happy birthday. I wasn't sure what to get you, so this happened._ ' And then Gerard started to sing. They sang Growing Up, Jet Pack Blues, and That Green Gentleman before launching into one that Frank had never heard before about closing doors and dark windows. He quickly realized that it must be a Gerard Way original. After that song ended, CD-Gerard performed their 'Alone' song and then finished the mini-concert off with a brief rendition of 'Happy Birthday.' When silence once again filled the bedroom, Frank turned to Gerard.

"Gee," he breathed. "That was, hands down, the best birthday present I've ever received." And then, because words weren't enough for Frank to express his emotions, he leaned over and kissed Gerard, soft and slow at first, but rapidly intensifying, pushing his lips against Gerard's hard enough to bruise. Gerard let out a soft, barely there moan, and Frank seized the opportunity to slide his tongue into Gerard's warm mouth. They gasped a little, enjoying the pleasant intrusion. Hesitantly, Gerard pulled gently on Frank's lower lip, drawing a groan from the younger boy. Encouraged, they let one of their hands travel up into their boyfriend's dark hair, twisting their fingers into it a bit as Frank practically fucked Gerard's mouth with his tongue.

Suddenly, Gerard felt fingers unzipping the hoodie they were wearing, and they helped Frank get it off, leaving themself in a loose black shirt, which Frank immediately began pulling off. Once the hindrance of a garment was gone, Frank let his hands explore Gerard's smooth torso, his lips on theirs all the while. As enjoyable as it all was, when Frank's gentle fingers began cautiously gliding lower, Gerard broke the kiss and pulled away, breathing heavily.

"Frank," they said, "as amazing as this is...I've actually never done anything more than kiss people."

"I find that hard to believe," Frank replied. "You're pretty goddamn sexy, baby."

Gerard blushed and shook their head. "Just...can we go slow?"

"Of course, baby," said Frank, now being dead serious. "Whatever you want."

Gerard's cheeks burned a bright crimson as they stammered, "FrankIwantoblowyouforyourbirthday."

Frank frowned. "Sorry, Gee, I didn't catch that."

Gerard took a deep breath. "Frank, I want to blow you. Can I?"

Eyes widening slightly, Frank nodded. "Fuck yes."

Gerard grinned as they slowly rose from the bed. "I want to get down on my knees in front of you and watch your face as you fuck my mouth, Frank."

Getting Gerard's meaning, Frank moved so he was standing against the foot of the bed, already growing hard from Gerard's words. Once Frank was situated, Gerard took a deep breath and sank down to their knees in front of their boyfriend. Slowly, tantalizingly, they unbuttoned Frank's black skinny jeans and pulled them down to his knees, maintaining eye contact with him the entire time. For a virgin, Gerard was incredibly seductive as they hooked their fingers around the elastic of Frank's boxers and slid them down as well, letting his member spring free.

Still looking into Frank's eyes intensely, Gerard carefully took him in, bringing as much of Frank into their mouth as they could (and holy shit, that was a lot). Without warning, Gerard swept their tongue across Frank's slit, causing him to gasp out, "Oh, fuck, Gee!" It took a couple of seconds, but in what felt like no time, Gerard had found a rhythm and was confidently bobbing their head up and down on Frank's member, driving him absolutely crazy.

All too soon, he couldn't handle it anymore, and Frank barely had a chance to shout out a, " _Gee,_ I-I'm gonna-" before coming into their mouth. And Gerard, talented, sexy shit that they were, swallowed it all.

Once Frank had his pants back on (so as to discourage any further temptation), he lay back on the bed, and Gerard snuggled up to next him, asking, "How was it?" "The best fucking blow job I've ever had, baby," Frank replied, and he meant it.

Gerard hummed contentedly in response and was about to make themself comfier when they saw the clock- 11:46pm. "It's getting kinda late, Frank, I should probably be heading home," they said regretfully.

"Can't you stay, just for tonight?" Frank asked hopefully.

Gerard paused and thought about it for a moment. "I guess I could, actually. I mean, Mom has the night shift tonight. Just let me call Mikey first and let him know so he doesn't get scared." They sat up and grabbed their phone from where they had left it on Frank's bedside table, and then they dialed Mikey's number.

He picked up surprisingly quickly. "Hello?"

In the background, Gerard could hear loud music and lots of voices. "Hey, Mikey. It's Gerard. I was just calling to let you know that I'm spending the night at Frank's tonight."

"Okay, that's cool, don't get pregnant or anything."

Gerard rolled their eyes. "Can do. Where are you, anyway?"

"Ray Toro's, you know him? Well, that doesn't matter, the point is that he's currently hosting a sick Halloween party with some sweet crack and so, naturally, Pete and I are here."

"Great. Have fun. Just don't get too stoned or high or whatever the fuck it is that you get, okay?"

"Got it. Bye, Gerard." And then Mikey hung up, so Gerard did the same, and they returned their phone to the nightstand, crawled back into Frank's secure arms, and closed their eyes.

_Bzzzz. Bzzzz. Bzzzz. Bzzzz_. At four in the morning, Gerard was woken by their phone vibrating obnoxiously, waiting for them to pick it up. _Bzzzz. Bzzzz. Bzzzz. Bzzzz_. The noise woke Frank up as well, who sleepily asked, "Who is it, Gee?"

Gerard just grabbed their phone and pressed the ACCEPT CALL button, holding it up to their ear. It was Pete fucking Wentz.

"Gerard?" he said. His words were slurred as if he was really drunk, and it sounded almost like he was crying. "Gerard, fuck, I fucked up, Gerard, I need help, I'm fucking drunk as hell, and Mikey was high off of some shit so I drove us out of that shitty-ass party but I'm really fucking drunk and we ended up in a fucking ditch and it's fucking dark and I have no fucking idea where the hell I am and fuck, Gerard, we ran into a ditch and hit some fucking trees and Mikey hasn't moved and fuck, Gerard, I'm really fucking terrified. I think Mikey's hurt real bad, Gerard, I need fucking help."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed the chapter:) have a terrific day/night!


	6. A Mikey-Shaped Space

_"Gerard, fuck, I fucked up, Gerard, I need help, I'm fucking drunk as hell, and Mikey was high off of some shit so I drove us out of that shitty-ass party but I'm really fucking drunk and we ended up in a fucking ditch and it's fucking dark and I have no fucking idea where the hell I am and fuck, Gerard, we ran into a ditch and hit some fucking trees and Mikey hasn't moved and fuck, Gerard, I'm really fucking terrified. I think Mikey's hurt real bad, Gerard, I need fucking help."_

* * *

"What?" Gerard gasped. "Pete, slow down. Have you called an ambulance?"

At the word 'ambulance,' Frank sat up, looking at Gerard's white face anxiously. Gerard ignored him, though, laser-focused on Pete' words. "Yeah, I did, first fucking thing, they're on their way and I don't think I should've hung up, but I did, I fucking did, Gerard, because I figured I'd better tell you what was happening, and just fuck, this is all my fucking fault and Mikey's gonna fucking die and it's all gonna be my fucking fault, Gerard."

"Pete. Breathe," Gerard directed, though they themself were having trouble doing the same. _Is Mikey really dead?_ "Listen, you need to tell me where you are, and then you need to call 911 again if the ambulance hasn't arrived yet, okay? I'll be there as quickly as I can." As they spoke, Gerard clambered out of Frank's bed and shoved their shoes on. Frank followed, extremely concerned for the frantic Way.

On the other end of the call, Pete was scrambling around, looking for a street sign of some sort. "Uh. . there! Gerard, we're by the corner of Robertson Street, hurry the fuck up, will you?"

"Yeah, I'm on my way, take care of Mikey, you hear?"

"Fuck, Gerard, I'll try, but he's not looking too good, I mean he was really fucking high, and then his head hit the dashboard, and he's bleeding a little, and fuck, Gerard, I don't even know if he's fucking breathing I don't think I could live with myself if he died, and _shit_ , I-"

"Just calm down, Pete, I'm not too far from there, I'm at Frank's, just give me a few minutes, okay?"

"Okay, I'm gonna hang up and call 911 again, the fucking ambulance better get here soon, goddammit."

And then Pete hung up and Gerard was practically sprinting, running the fastest they'd probably ever ran before, and Frank was behind them, confused as hell but also quite terrified by the one side of the conversation that he'd heard over the phone. "Gerard, where are we going?" Frank called, following them as they dashed out of the Iero's house and took a sharp left, heading to Robertson Street.

"Robertson!" they gasped out, breathing heavily. "Pete-Mikey-crash-we have to get there!"

As he ran, Frank slowly put the pieces together: Pete and Mikey, in some sort of car crash. . .this was not looking good. After about five solid minutes of frantic running, Frank and Gerard finally reached the corner of Robertson Street.

"There they are," gasped Gerard, pointing to the flashing lights of the parked ambulances and police cars. Overwhelmed by a sudden need for physical reassurance, Gerard reached down and took Frank’s hand securely in theirs. They then cautiously stepped over to the scene of the crash. It wasn’t pretty. Pete’s silver VW Jetta was crumpled against the side of the large oak tree it had rolled into at the bottom of the shallow ditch, muddy and scratched. All of the left-side windows had been shattered and now lay in glittering fragments, like snowflakes, on the ground. And in the passenger's seat, bloodied forehead against the dashboard and eyes closed, was Mikey. Gerard looked away from the awful sight of their little brother's unconscious form almost immediately, but it was still an image they knew they would never quite forget.

They squeezed Frank's hand tightly, taking in deep, slow breaths. As the still unnoticed couple stood on the edge of the scene, paramedics began to cut away the twisted metal trapping Mikey in the car's remains, finally lifting him onto a stretcher. His chest was still, too still, but Gerard refused to believe that he was dead. No, Mikey would be okay. He _had_ to be okay. Once the ambulance carrying Mikey had sped off, sirens wailing into the dark silence of the early morning, Gerard caught sight of Pete sitting on a nearby rock, head in his hands. Slowly, they moved over to him, Frank's hand still clutched securely in theirs.

"Hey, Pete," Gerard said, voice almost imperceptible. Honestly, though, they were surprised that they actually could speak.

The devastated sixteen year old looked up. His normally pristine black eyeliner now ran down his cheeks in watery streaks. "Gerard, fuck, I'm so sorry, I'm so goddamn sorry, I think, I-I think I killed my boyfriend, and he's your brother, and I should've known better than to get in that fucking car, I was still drunk off my ass. Hell, I'm _still_ drunk off my ass."

Gerard shook their head insistently, refusing to even consider that Mikey could be gone. "He's going to be okay, Pete. Mikey has to be okay."

Frank shot them a concerned glance; if Mikey didn't make it, he wasn't sure that Gerard would be okay.

"Hey, who are you?" A sharp male voice drew the small group's attention. Above them, an irate young policeman with a noticeably large forehead was standing, arms folded and waiting for an answer.

"I-I'm Gerard Way. Mikey, the boy in the ambulance, is my little brother. After the crash, Pete-" the motioned to the intoxicated teen on their left- "called me and told me to get here as fast as I could."

"Oh, so that's why he hung up on our responder so quickly. Okay, but who's this?" the officer asked, jerking his head towards Frank.

"I'm Frank Iero, Gerard's boyfriend."

"Okay. Now, I'm sorry for snapping earlier, it's just that this is technically a crime scene and shouldn't be disturbed. But I understand wanting to help when a loved one is in danger, so I'll let it go. Anyway, how'd you guys like a ride to the hospital to see what's up with Mikey?"

"T-that would be amazing," Pete choked out, rising to his unsteady feet. "Thank you, Officer. . ."

"Urie. But you can just call me Brendon. There's not much sense in proper formalities at times like these, you know?"

Gratefully, Gerard, Frank, and Pete piled into Brendon's squad car, Pete getting into the passenger seat so Gerard and Frank could sit together. Brendon drove quickly, feeling the urgency and tension in the car. In the backdate, Gerard leaned against Frank, trying to think about anything but the possibility of Mikey dying. That, of course, meant that it was all that they could think about. After what felt like an eternity, Brendon pulled up in front of Ballato Memorial Hospital.

As the teens somberly climbed out of the car, he looked at them all seriously. "Look, I hope that Mikey is alright just as much as you all do, but. . .don't get your hopes up, okay?"

"O-okay," Pete stammered. Anyone could tell that he was holding back tears as he spoke. "Thanks so much, Brendon."

The young officer simply nodded, and the grim trio slowly stepped into the hospital. Even though it was early in the morning, only about 4:45am, the hospital was a hive of frantic activity. Doctors and nurses rushed back in forth, trying valiantly to treat all of the people in the crowded emergency room.

"Where do we even go?" Gerard asked, focusing solely on the task at hand of finding a way to find Mikey, not letting their mind drift to all of the worries screaming in the back of their head.

"Let's try that desk over there," suggested Frank, being the most currently rational member of their group. In silent agreement, they all walked over to the front desk, where a tired-looking woman sat. Her name tag read JAMIA NESTOR. They really must have been a sight, dressed in black with streaks of eyeliner down their faces and adrenaline pulsing in their eyes.

She smiled, but it was an exhausted smile, and asked, "What can I do for you? I hope you know that visitors aren't allowed until 11am."

Impatient and extremely concerned for his boyfriend's life, the life that he just might have ended, Pete pushed in front of Frank. "Mikey Way. He was sent here about 15 minutes ago, after a c-car accident over on Robertson Street. I know we can't see him, but. . .could you tell us how he is?" Pete's voice was shaking uncontrollably, and Gerard could see him blinking rapidly. "Please."

The receptionist sighed. "I can't give you direct information right now, because I don't have it, but his family members can wait in the family emergency waiting room until the doctor can give an update. Do any of you bear blood or legal relation to the patient?"

Gerard stepped forward now. "H-he's my brother; I'm Gerard Way." Their voice cracked on the word 'brother,' the sound hitting Frank directly in the heart. Seeing Gerard like this was almost, if not more, painful as not knowing if Mikey was alive or not. While Frank hadn't known the younger Way all that well, Gerard had certainly spoken highly of him.

"Do you have ID?" Gerard reached into their jeans pocket and pulled their driver's license from their wallet, handing it to Jamia with a shaking head. "Here."

She looked it over briefly and handed it back to Gerard. "Okay. You can go wait over there, the first room on the right. But your friends will just have to wait out here. I'll notify Dr. Ross that you'll be waiting for an update when he can give one, alright?"

Gerard nodded, knowing better than to push for Frank or Pete to be allowed to come with them. "Thank you." Then, with one final glance, Gerard tentatively made their way to the room Jamia had directed them to.

When they walked in, the first thing Gerard noticed was the tension, palpable in the air and on the anxious faces of the six or seven people already waiting, all of whom were presumably in the same boat as Gerard: praying for a happy ending, terrified of anything else. They took a seat in an empty corner, nervously bouncing their knee. Mikey had to be okay. Gerard could barely even consider the alternative. Mikey was okay.

Just then, a solemn doctor entered the room. "Mr. Stump?" she asked. On the other side of the room, a blond man rose. Gerard saw the tears brimming in his eyes. Would that be them soon? No, it wouldn't. It couldn't. Mikey was okay. Mikey had to be okay, for Gerard and their mom and Pete and all of his other friends. Mikey was okay, goddammit! Gerard repeated their new mantra over and over again, a steady mental stream of _'MikeyisokayMikeyisokayMikeyisokayMikeyisokay_ ,' but they still couldn't bring themself to truly believe the words. Every time they closed their eyes, Gerard was greeted by the haunting image of their little brother's limp form crumpled against the dashboard of Pete's decimated car, and - no. Mikey. Was. Okay. He had to be okay, there was no possible alternative, _MIKEY WAS OKAY._

"Mr. Way?" Gerard's head shot up, eyes landing on a dark-haired doctor, his face unreadable. They nervously stood and crossed the room, digging their nails into their palms to steady their shaking.

The doctor led Gerard into a small office, indicating for them to take a seat in the hard wooden chair on the closer side of the desk. The doctor, expression still not giving Gerard a single hint about their brother's condition, sat opposite them. "I'm Dr. Ross. . .it's Gerard, correct?"

Gerard nodded. "Yes. How's my brother?"

Dr. Ross sighed heavily. "Gerard, Mikey suffered severe brain damage when he hit his head in the accident. That and the concoction of substances he seemed to have recently ingested was not a good mix."

"So you're saying. . ." Gerard whispered faintly, knuckles white on the armrests as they waited for an answer that they already knew deep down.

"Mikey didn't make it. I'm so sorry."

"No," said Gerard. "No!" They broke down into sobs in Dr. Ross' office, no longer caring about any sense of decorum or dignity. "No, Mikey's _okay_ , no." The doctor didn't even move to calm Gerard, years of experience telling him to just let human emotions run their course, and the seventeen year old just allowed their tears to fall like thin rivers their cheeks.

After about ten minutes, though, Dr. Ross knew that it was time for them to go back out and face the world. "Gerard," he said gently. "It's 5am. You're exhausted and emotionally drained. I know that this is an impossibly difficult time. But your friends are outside waiting for you, and you probably need to call your mom or dad down here, okay?"

Gerard nodded, slowly wiping the lingering tears from their eyes. Their wave of emotion was rapidly fading, leaving them numb and impossibly empty. "R-right," they stammered shakily. "Thank you, Dr. Ross." Feeling almost detached from their body and the chemically clean scent of the hospital surrounding them, Gerard left the office and made their way back out to where Pete and Frank were waiting. As soon as Gerard stepped foot into the lobby, they were greeted by Pete and Frank's hopeful, anxious faces, and the rusty dagger in their heart twisted excruciatingly as they slowly shook their head.

Pete's eyes widened, filling once more with tears, before he leaned over and retched into a nearby trash can. And while Gerard cared about Pete quite a lot, they couldn't bear to look at him, not after what had happened. Frank immediately moved to encompass Gerard in a comforting embrace, murmuring soft, reassuring nothings into their ear, but Gerard was numb, the walls of their life slowly crumbling down around them. Everything that had been keeping Gerard sane and alive up until that point was being sucked into the black hole that Mikey had left, leaving them nothing but an empty shell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed the chapter:) have a fabulous day/night!


	7. I Miss Him

His funeral was about a week later, on November 8th. It was a small affair, just Mikey's closest friends and family. Gerard hadn't spoken to Pete since the morning of the accident. Mrs. Way had been horrified when she found out, and she was still torn up beyond words. Frank and his mom had been amazing throughout the entire week, supporting Gerard and sending them home with home-cooked meals every night. They were always tasteless to the Ways, though, so lost they were in their grief.

On the day of the funeral, Gerard rose from bed early, around 7:30am. They hadn't really been sleeping, just lying awake and feeling the aching hole in their chest. Why had Mikey had to go? He had been too young, and _he'd_ actually wanted to live. Gerard really hadn't had a good night of sleep since Dr. Ross had spoken those awful, awful words.

They stumbled downstairs, eyes bleary, unsurprised to find their mom sitting at the kitchen table and staring aimlessly outside of the window. She started when Gerard walked in. "Oh, hi, Gerard."

There was no exchange of 'good morning,' or 'how are you?' because how on earth could a Mikey-less morning be good? Gerard sat heavily in the seat across from their mother. The third seat's vacancy was nothing but another silent reminder that a member of their small family was missing. And that's how Gerard preferred to think of their brother: missing. Thinking of him actually being. . .Gerard refused to even think it, as if saying it would make it truly permanent, as if refusing to believe in the true situation would somehow send Mikey walking right back through the front door.

"Today's the day," Gerard said quietly, speaking the words on both of their minds in a vain attempt to fill the silence. It didn't really work, of course, there was and probably always would be a deafening silence in the Way household, a silence that Mikey used to fill with sound.

"Mm-hmm. Is Frank coming?"

"Yeah. He said he would."

"That's good." Mrs. Way had picked up on Gerard's relationship with Frank almost as soon as she arrived at the hospital and saw her oldest child curled up against him. She didn't really care, as there were obviously more important things occurring at the time.

Gerard sighed. "I should probably go shower now. When are we leaving, again?"

"Nine."

They simply nodded in response and trudged numbly back up the stairs. The past week had been a strange mixture of numbness and pain: feeling nothing one second and everything the next. And as much as Gerard hated to admit it, they were rapidly losing their grip on the vague happiness they had found with Frank and were about to slip and tumble back into the pit of their depression. Gerard was trying to hold out as long as they possibly could for Frank and their mom, but they could feel their arms getting weaker. Once they were showered and dressed in the somber black suit that their father had left behind, Gerard walked back downstairs. Mrs. Way was still there, but she had changed into a plain black dress.

A question that had plaguing them since they had put the suit on rose to the front of Gerard's mind once more and they asked, "I-is Dad coming?"

Mrs. Way shook her head. "No, I couldn't even get a hold of him. We haven't spoken since. . ."

"Oh." Gerard sat down in their chair again, waiting for the moment when they would have to go face the fact that Mikey was de-no. _Missing_ , that's what he was. Just missing.

* * *

"Michael James Way was truly a kind young man, one who certainly died soon. He will always be remembered in our mourning hearts as a-" The preacher droned on and on, but Gerard wasn't listening to his words, his meaningless, meaningless words. Sure, they were meant to be comforting or something like that, but they were just goddamn words. They were just goddamn words, and lies at that. Mikey hadn't been kind or wonderful, he'd been an asshole. But that was okay, because that's what made Mikey _Mikey_.

So the words were lies, but it didn't matter, because Mikey Way, Gerard's asshole of a brother, was gone and there was nothing anyone could do about it. All of this ran through Gerard's mind as they leaned against Frank on the hard wooden pew. All across the small church, stifled sobs could be heard, the loudest being from Mrs. Way and Pete. Gerard was just crying silently, still in a vague state of denial that Mikey was well and truly gone. Frank rubbed their back soothingly, wanting nothing more than to just take their pain away. But then again, he didn't know just how deep Gerard's pain went or how strong it really was.

Finally, the preacher finished his stupid, meaningless speech with its stupid, meaningless words, and all of the funeral-goers had one last opportunity to see Mikey before he was lowered into the ground forever. Gerard held Frank's hand securely to hide their shaking as they slowly stepped up to the open casket. Mikey's eyes were closed, and the wound he had received in the accident was covered by his emo fringe. His face was unnaturally pale and Gerard knew that if they were to embrace their younger sibling one last time, his body would just be stiff and cold.

So they settled for simply whispering an imperceptible, "I'm sorry. Goodbye," before tears overwhelmed them and they stepped to the side, leaning against Frank for support. The worst part was that Gerard was wishing that they were the empty shell lying in the coffin. They were already empty, really, but unfortunately, they were still trapped in the hell of life. And Gerard hated themself even more for feeling that way, for wanting so desperately to leave even when it would shatter Frank and absolutely destroy their mother. But Gerard still couldn't help but regret not being the one in the passenger seat of Pete's car that awful morning, not being the one lying in the coffin.

All too soon, it was time for Mikey’s coffin to be closed and buried, six feet under. As everyone slowly moved to where his final resting place would soon be, Gerard migrated over to their mother. The broken remainder of the Way family leaned against one another, trying to find some support in the confusing world of grief. In between Frank and their mother, though, Gerard only found pain in the thought that the likelihood of them leaving was even greater now. What would their small community turn to if both of the Way children died? Of course, Mikey had had far more of an impact, what with having friends and all, but still. The one, single, almost meaningless upside to Mikey’s passing was that he would never have to watch Gerard fall. He would never look down at Gerard’s cold, stiff body. He would never have to watch his sibling’s coffin being lowered into the ground.

But Gerard would. Gerard had to say goodbye to Mikey, and they had to try to carry on without him. And the worst part of it all was that they didn’t think they could and didn’t even want to at that. No, with Mikey gone, Gerard was even more done than they had ever felt before. And maybe it was really just the worst possible time to want to leave, but Gerard was impossibly, unspeakably, unbearably done. Gerard couldn’t quite bring themself to watch as their little brother’s casket was lowered into the ground and covered with dirt. It took longer than they would have thought, and before anyone knew it, Mikey Way was buried and gone forever.

And that’s when the gravity of the situation really took hold of Gerard. Mikey was gone. Mikey was _dead_. He was fucking dead and gone and no matter how much Gerard tried to avoid it or not think about it, it was going to remain that way forever. And no amount of hoping or dodging or denial would ever change it. And that was when Gerard really, truly broke down, and they moved away from everyone else to lean against a tree and sob. Mikey should never had died, he had dreams and hopes and a life ahead of him, he wasn’t messed up like Gerard. He deserved to live, he wanted to live. Not Gerard. Never Gerard.

Yet who was underground, and who was left, devastated, on the hell of the surface? Who was left wishing more than anything that they could switch places with the boy who died too soon? Gerard. Gerard was left, but all they wanted to do was _leave._

* * *

Everyone wanted to talk about him. Gerard didn’t. Everyone wanted to remember Mikey and talk about him in the past tense and smile through their tears. Gerard didn’t. Gerard didn’t want to remember Mikey, they wanted to be with Mikey. Talk with him, hear his voice, see his smile one last time. So they moved silently away from the thicket of people remembering their brother and sat alone, save Frank, of course.

“How are you holding up?” their boyfriend asked gently, sliding down to sit next to Gerard.

They sighed and wiped their eyes, leaning their head on Frank’s shoulder even though it was a bit lower than would have been preferred. “I don’t know. Like, I just want him here again, you know?” _And I just want to be gone._ “Everyone’s just remembering him, but I don’t want to remember. I want to talk with him, and hear him, and just say one last goodbye, you know?”

Frank nodded, soothingly brushing Gerard’s messy black hair from their puffy eyes.

“And you know one of the worst parts? The last thing I said to him was, ‘Don’t get too high.’ _Shit_ , Frank, the last thing I ever said to my brother was, ‘Don’t get too high.’” Gerard's tears were returning; they were crying way too much for one day. "God, I just wish he hadn't had to go _so goddamn soon_. He just didn't deserve it."

"I know, Gee. But it'll be okay. I'm here for you, okay?"

Gerard just nodded and buried their face in Frank's shoulder, the soft fabric of his hoodie muffling their weeping as they thought, _But I don't want anyone to be here for me. I don't want anyone going through this hell when I die._ And they really didn't want that. They didn't want Frank to watch them being buried. They didn't want Frank to hear the news that their body had been found in the street the day after it happened. But all of that was inevitable, and Gerard was sure of that now. Mikey was gone. And Gerard had to be next, because there was no way that they could go on, no way that they could survive much longer in the torment of the world. Finally, it was time to leave.

Gerard and Frank were just about to get into the Way's car when Pete came up to them, eyes red and cheeks tear-stained. "Gerard," he said, voice shaking. "I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. I never thought things would end up like this, and I just-I'm so sorry." He was crying before he even finished his sentence, unable to look Gerard in the eye.

"Pete, it's okay. It's not your fault," Gerard said, voice cracking. "It's okay."

They embraced the trembling boy tightly, and Pete only cried harder, relieved by the forgiveness. "Thank you, Gee. Thank you."

* * *

"I-I'm going to go out on a walk, okay?" Mrs. Way said. She, Gerard, and Frank had just gotten home from the funeral, and she was still pretty torn up. Gerard nodded, not moving from where they were lying on the couch in Frank's warm arms. Mrs. Way stepped out of the house, locking the door securely behind her. Gerard just closed their eyes to fend off the tears still waiting to fall. Everything in their house reminded them of Mikey: the dent in the living room wall where his video game controller had been thrown once, the blinds still closed facing down the way he used to make them purely to spite Mrs. Way, and of course, all of the pictures hanging on the walls, Mikey's smile forever frozen in time.

"I miss him," whispered Gerard, overcome with a tidal wave of pure emotion. "I really fucking miss him, Frank. Why the hell did he have to go?"

"I don't know, Gee, I don't know," Frank soothed gently. "But he's in a better place now, right?"

"Right," mumbled Gerard, but they didn't mean it. They didn't believe in any afterlife. When you died, you died, and everything was over. That's what they hoped for, anyway. If they still had to 'live' with themself after death. . .they didn't even want to think about it. In fact, they didn't really want to think about anything. "Frank?" they said suddenly, hesitantly.

"Yeah, Gee?"

"Will you fuck me?"

"W-what?" Frank choked, completely caught off-guard.

Gerard repeated their words, firmer this time. "Will you fuck me? I don't want to think, Frank. Please."

Unsteadily but undeniably tempted, Frank replied, "Gee, you're not thinking clearly. Now's not the time for this, okay?"

Frustrated, Gerard pressed their lips to Frank's neck, giving the smooth skin a gentle nip. "Yes, it is, Frank. I don't want to think, I just want to let go, and I want you to fuck me." They kissed him on the lips this time, hard and fierce. "Please. I need this."

And while it maybe wasn't the world's best decision, Frank decided to give in. "Okay," he relented. "Okay. Let's go to your bedroom at least, alright?"

"Alright," Gerard obliged, wrapping their arms around Frank's neck as the younger boy carried them down the hall and laid them on the bed. Gerard connected their lips with Frank's, and they completely lost all thought as clothes were shed and fingers were trailed down pale skin and across inked patterns, as mouths met and lips were touched to every exposed surface. Gerard and Frank's fucking was just that: needy and desperate, but also with a deep underlying tone of love. They went at it for two rounds, finally collapsing among the wrinkled sheets, sweaty and panting.

"Thank you, Frank," Gerard breathed, closing their eyes and taking in the post-virginity-loss, mindless bliss.

Frank smiled a bit, blown away by the best sex he'd had to date. "You're welcome, baby. I love you."

"I love you too." And it was the first time either one had said those words to the other, and Gerard hadn't been planning on saying it, really, but it had just felt so right in the moment. Almost everything felt right with Frank, if they ignored the foul, ever-present taint of Mikey's absence. And they had been able to do that, if only briefly. But now those moments of heaven were over, and Gerard was once again left with the torments of their brother's death and the inevitability of their hopelessness and desire to die. Gerard was holding on to the very edge of a long, slippery slope, and there was no guarantee that they'd be able to hold on much longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed the chapter:) any and all feedback is greatly appreciated. have a lovely day/night!


	8. Losing Grip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also on my wattpad: @justadude77

"Do you remember when he was five and knocked out his front tooth falling off of the swings?" Mrs. Way asked fondly, pointing to a grainy photograph in the album she and Gerard were currently looking through. It was three weeks after the funeral, and while the Ways' wounds were still fresh, Gerard's mom had wanted to look through her old pictures and remember Mikey.

Gerard laughed a little. "I remember that. He was trying to jump off like I did."

Mrs. Way smiled sadly. "And what about the time that he tried to raise the sick bird he found on his window sill?"

"Yeah, back before his punk-emo days," they recalled.

"And remember this, the eighth grade formal when he and Pete went stag together?"

Looking at the terribly awkward picture of their younger brother and Pete together in suit jackets and ties, Gerard smiled. "Actually, about that, there was something he never told you." In all of the chaotic pain following Mikey's death, they had almost forgotten that their mother had never known that Pete and Mikey were together. While he had never really left the closet in life, Gerard decided that Mrs. Way deserved to know. After all, she was bound to find out eventually.

"What do you mean?" Mrs. Way asked, confused. "What did he never tell me?"

"That he was gay. And dating Pete since that very dance."

Mrs. Way's eyes widened almost comically. "Really? And he never told me?"

Gerard nodded, the memories washing over them bittersweet. "Yeah. I told him over and over again that you would be okay with it, but he never got up the courage. He was always saying, 'This family's messed up as it is.' "

"Oh my God," said Mrs. Way, shocked and saddened by her child's words. "I never knew. . .never even suspected. God, now I feel awful, making him think that he had to hide it all that time."

Gerard put a reassuring hand on her arm. "It's not your fault. It's not anyone's fault. He just wasn't ready."

"Still. . . .my goodness. Anything else that I should know about my son?" Her words were light, joking, even, but Gerard heard the tremor in her voice. Things obviously weren't as hard as they'd been two weeks ago, but they were still pretty rough.

"No, not unless he was hiding something from all of us," Gerard replied, keeping the pain they so clearly felt from their words as well.

Shaking her head in incredulity, Mrs. Way turned the page. In the top left corner, there was a picture of Mikey standing sheepishly with a bouquet of flowers after his first and only acting performance: his sixth grade production of Beauty and the Beast, in which he'd played a singing fork. Unbeknownst to either his mother or sibling, sometime after the photo had been placed in the album, Mikey had pulled it out and written, 'For when I'm famous,' and autographed it in his messy scrawl. The sight very nearly sent both Ways to tears, the sudden reminder that Mikey Way had really lived and existed outside of blurry snapshots, and that he had died. That he was gone.

And suddenly, Gerard could no longer bear to sit at the kitchen table, with its still-empty chair, in the midst of all of their vibrant memories, and without their brother. "I'm sorry, I can't do this anymore, Mom, I just can't." And then they were practically running from the kitchen and out the door and to Pete's house because it was closer and he had alcohol and Frank, try as he might, didn't understand the misery that came along with losing Mikey Way.

Gerard reached the Wentz' house in record time, ringing the doorbell and praying that Pete was home. He was, thankfully, and he pulled open the door almost immediately after Gerard rang. "Hey, Gerard, are you ok-"

"What's the strongest alcoholic substance you have, Pete?" they asked, going into his kitchen without waiting for a response and looking through his cabinets with blurred vision. Luckily, Mr. and Mrs. Wentz weren't home; that would've just been awkward.

"Uh, there's some vodka in that cupboard over there that I'm 96% sure my parents don't want anymore, you can have it all. I haven't drank since that night."

Upon hearing that, Gerard paused in their frantic search and looked at Pete in astonishment. "Wow. I'd have thought that you'd be drinking more than usual now."

Pete shook his head. "No, I can't bear to after it cost Mikey his life. Coke, though, is a different story. . ."

"Pete! You're fucking sixteen. How do you even. . .?"

He shrugged. "I have connections. But my age isn't important. It just helps me forget so much better than the alcohol ever has, you know? When I'm high, it's like nothing even matters anymore."

Gerard frowned. "Pete, you do realize that that's not going to end well, right?"

"I don't give a shit, Gerard. And besides, you're one to talk, considering that you just ran into my home looking for alcohol," Pete pointed out.

"Whatever. Just get me something to drink. I really cannot handle my emotions right now." Desperation ran rampant in their voice, and Pete took the hint and pulled out a large bottle of vodka from one of the cabinets.

"Here," he said, popping the cork off and handing it to Gerard. "You can just drink it straight from the bottle, I don't care."

"Thanks," said Gerard, taking a large swig and reveling in the burn. They sat down at the table, slumping into their chair and closing their eyes in a futile attempt to ward off their tears.

Pete sat down as well. "So, what brings you here?"

"What do you think? My mom and I were looking through old pictures of M-Mikey, and I just couldn't take it anymore."

"Oh." Pete's gaze fell to the intricate wood grain of the kitchen table, and Gerard could see that he was beginning to cry too.

"I just miss him so damn much, you know? It's like, one day I wake up and there's that split second before I don't remember that he's gone, and, Pete, I live for that one fucking second. It's gone in a heartbeat, though, and then I remember that he's not just asleep in the next room. And then I spend the whole day with this, just this hole, in my chest, and it's tearing me apart from the inside out." Gerard let their tears fall freely at that point, catching their breath just long enough to drink more of the vodka.

Pete nodded. "I know what you mean. It's like, sometimes, it's like, I almost forget that he's gone and I check my phone, expecting to have some stupidly cheesy text from him. But there never is one. It's always just an empty screen, and an empty inbox, and an empty shell under the ground when I go to visit him. And I just can't handle it some days. Some days I just sit in my room alone for hours, staring at the sky and wishing more than anything that I could back to that night and keep myself from getting into that fucking car." He laughed humorlessly, tears streaming from his haunted eyes. "I can't drive anymore. They revoked my license. Not that I ever want to get behind a wheel ever again. It just hurts too much, you know?"

Gerard nodded, crying too hard to speak. "Goddammit, Pete," they finally choked out. "I just want him back."

Without even being aware of it, Pete was sobbing as well. "Me too, Gerard. Me too."

And while Gerard's mind was already becoming an alcohol-saturated mess, they still wondered if this was anything similar to what they would leave behind when they left.

* * *

"Wait - you were _where_ yesterday when I came by your house?" Frank asked.

Gerard clutched their throbbing head as they replied, "At Pete's, getting drunk."

"Oh, Gee. . ." Frank moved and wrapped them in a comforting embrace. "It'll be okay one day, baby. I know it doesn't seem like it now, but it will."

Gerard sighed. "That's what everyone says, and maybe they're right. But I just can't picture a Mikey-less world where I'm okay." _Except one where I'm gone too,_ they thought, the unspoken words causing a painful but extremely relieving pang in their chest.

Frank frowned and knelt down next to Gerard, who was sitting on their bedroom floor. "Is there anything I can do? I hate seeing you in any kind of pain, you know."

_You could kill me._ Gerard shook their head a bit and smiled sadly. "Not unless you can bring Mikey back."

Frank didn't have a verbal reply to that, so he just put a comforting arm around Gerard. They automatically leaned into his touch as he murmured, "I love you, Gee."

"I love you too." This time, though, the words felt different as they left Gerard's mouth. Last time they had been uttered, Gerard had just been coming off of a mindless high and hadn't really been thinking. Now, however, all of their mental facilities were working just fine, reminding them that they shouldn't get this close to Frank, that they were just going to leave him soon. Of course, the whole 'don't let Frank get too close' thing was futile now. He and Gerard were obviously closer than Gerard had ever really let anyone before. Hell, they had given Frank their fucking virginity, for Christ's sake.

But they still felt bad for the pain that was in store for Frank. Gerard had been on the fence about leaving before Mikey's death, but at that point, on December 2nd, that they decided that they were leaving. And they were going to leave before the end of next month. Otherwise, they were going to go completely crazy with pain. Frank suddenly planted a chaste kiss to the top of Gerard's head, startling them out of their dark thoughts. "You okay, baby?"

"I, uh, yeah. I'm fine, just got lost in thought for a moment there."

Giving them a concerned look, Frank replied, "Okay. You know you can talk to me about anything, right?"

"Yeah." _Just anything but this,_ Gerard thought, tears springing up in their eyes as they did so. "Hey, do you have any alcohol at your house?" They didn't want to think about it anymore, didn't want to think about Mikey, didn't want to think about what leaving Frank would mean.

"No, I don't, Gee. And you shouldn't be drinking anyway."

Gerard frowned almost angrily. "But I want to, Frank. I want to stop thinking and just drown in anything but my goddamn thoughts."

"Gerard," rationalized Frank, trying to get through to them. "You're still hungover from yesterday."

They groaned. "Don't remind me. I just need to stop thinking, Frank. My thoughts. . .they're driving me insane."

Instead of offering a solution, Frank asked, "What are you thinking about, Gee?" His voice was low and deadly serious, as if he somehow knew that Gerard wasn't just thinking about the loss of their brother.

"Mikey. What else?" The partial lie slipped from Gerard's lips as if it was coated with oil, smooth and slick.

Frank still looked concerned, but he didn't push the issue. "Right. Well, do you want to talk about him?"

"No."

"Do you want to talk about anything?"

"No, unless it's a way to just forget everything."

"Gerard, please." Frank was getting slightly frustrated with them now, just wanting Gerard to open up so he could take away or lessen their pain. "What are you thinking?"

Gerard was getting frustrated too, but for an entirely different reason. They wanted Frank to stop caring, stop trying to help. After all, the farther away he was when Gerard left, the better. "I don't want to talk about it, Frank. Have I not made myself clear?" They internally winced at the hurt that flashed across Frank's face at their harsh words, but forced themself to remain stoic. _It's for the better_ , Gerard reminded themself.

"Gerard, you're not acting like yourself, and you haven't been for weeks. Please tell me what's going on."

At that, Gerard wrenched themself from Frank's grip and moved to take a seat on their bed, arms crossed. "Hmm, what could be going on? Let's see. . . .oh, yeah, my little brother just died! How could I ever forget that one?" they snapped sarcastically.

"That's not what I meant, Gee, and you know it. This isn't you."

Gerard rolled their eyes, the action hurting them as much, if not more, as it did Frank. "How do you know, Frank Iero? You've only known me for three months or something."

"Gerard. . ." Frank's voice was unsteady as he rose from his seat on the floor.

"I don't want to hear it, Frank. Just get out."

Now Frank's anger was boiling over as well, taking away the patience he'd been trying to hold for Gerard. "Wow, what a Gerard Way thing to do. Kick me out as soon as things stop going their way. Surprise, surprise."

"Just get out, Frank!"

But Frank stood where he was, determined to have the last word. "What do you want, Gerard? What's your plan? Kick me out, break my heart, and then welcome me back with open arms the second you can't take the loneliness anymore?"

"Shut the fuck up and leave!" Gerard screaming, tears beginning to fall and their head pounding horrendously.

"Fine!" Frank shouted back, storming out of the room and down the hall. When he passed Mrs. Way in the kitchen, he stopped and said, "Just to let you know, your _son_ Gerard? _He's_ an asshole."

And then he left the house, leaving Mrs. Way confused and Gerard heartbroken. They could take being called an asshole. They were used to it, actually. But Frank's purposeful use of 'son' and 'he' was more than Gerard could bear. Being non-binary was one of their greatest insecurities, and attacks on it tended to hurt way more than any other kind. So they slammed their door shut, collapsed back onto their bed, and started sobbing.

"Gerard? Honey, what happened? Are you okay?" Mrs. Way appeared in Gerard's doorway, a worried expression on her worn face.

"Just leave me alone," Gerard mumbled into their pillow.

"Okay, honey. If you need to talk, I'm here." She left, leaving Gerard alone in their room. Almost right after their mom walked away, Gerard realized that they were still wearing Frank's hoodie and angrily cast it aside, refusing to think about him more than was absolutely necessary. If they were barely holding on before, Gerard was falling now, and the bottom was approaching faster than anyone could ever have foreseen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed the chapter! any and all feedback is greatly appreciated. have a rad day/night:)


	9. Downward Spiral

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also on my wattpad: @justadude77

The next few weeks were especially rough for Gerard. They didn't speak to Frank at all, not even texting him. In fact, Gerard ended up spending most of their time at Pete's, getting drunk, as school had not yet required either teen to return yet. Luckily for them, Mrs. Way had to return to work and didn't notice her child's almost-constant state of intoxication. Gerard wasn't in a good place, though, not even close. They were shutting themself off from everyone but Pete, and they really only talked to him for his drinks. Gerard hadn't touched their guitar since Mikey's death, wishing that they had played for him more in life. And Frank. . .Gerard tried not to think about him.

Gerard really just tried not to think about anything, which was why they went to Pete's for what seemed like the millionth time on Christmas Eve with the goal of getting drunk once more. Gerard had reached a point where they didn't even need to ring the doorbell; Pete expected them. There had been the one awkward incident when Mr. and Mrs. Wentz were home, but they were (thankfully) gone most of the time, working and whatnot. That Thursday, they stumbled up Pete's driveway exhaustedly. It was only 10:30am, but Gerard's poisonous thoughts were already overcoming them. "Hey, Pete," they murmured, seeing him on his old, stained couch watching TV.

"Hey, Gerard. Happy Christmas Eve."

They rolled their eyes. "Happy. As if. Where's the booze?"

"In the cupboard, where it always is, Gerard."

"Thanks." They went and selected a bottle of whiskey, desiring its rough burn in their throat, erasing their every thought. "You know, Pete, you have a lot of alcohol in your house."

He shrugged. "Yeah, you're right. My parents used to really enjoy a drink with dinner and friends and stuff, but after the accident, there's kind of been an unspoken ban on it. They don't really care where it goes as long as I'm not the one drinking it."

"Huh." Gerard poured themself a glass and sat on the couch with Pete. "Watching cartoons, Pete, seriously? You're sixteen."

Pete shrugged again. "I don't really care. Gerard, you're over really early today. Are you okay?"

Gerard shot him a glare. "You're not my therapist, Pete. No one is. Don't ask me how I feel or any of that shit, 'kay?"

"Okay. I'm just worried about you, y'know?"

"Yeah, well, so was Frank. And look what happened with him."

Having heard the entire story about Frank and Gerard's fight multiple times, Pete heaved a sigh. "He cares about you, Gerard. You should reach out to him. I'm sure he's in just as much pain as you are over the fight."

"Yeah, right," snorted Gerard, taking a long drink of whiskey. "He cares about me. That's why he told my mother that her 'son' was an asshole."

"Gerard, we all say things we don't mean when we're upset."

"Whatever."

As his friend finished their first of what he knew would turn into many glasses of whiskey, Pete subtly shifted his attention from the TV to Gerard. The seventeen year-old looked, to put it blatantly, like shit. Their greasy hair lay in uncombed strands around their pale face, the portions of it covering their eyes partially hiding their dark bags. Gerard had, more or less, been wearing the same outfit of black, baggy sweatpants and a sweatshirt since early November. Pete had no idea when his friend had last showered or even really eaten a decent meal. And while he wanted to help, knowing that the change in Gerard had been caused in part by his reckless actions, Pete was hesitant to overstep his clear role of alcohol-provider. If he pushed too hard, Gerard would just shove him away like they'd done to Frank.

"Tomorrow's Christmas," Gerard mentioned suddenly, as if realizing it for the first time. They didn't sound excited in the least, though. "Christmas was Mikey's favorite holiday."

"Yeah," Pete replied quietly. The loss of his boyfriend was still something he had yet to recover from. While he'd only known Mikey since seventh grade, the two had had a very strong, rapidly-developing relationship, one that Pete had expected to last for years. Until it had been brutally cut short, that is. "I was thinking of visiting his grave tomorrow, actually. Would you want to come too?"

"I don't know. When?"

"Sometime in the afternoon, I guess."

"Okay. I'll come."

Pete smiled at Gerard, pleased that they would actually be going somewhere other than their and his house for the first time in over a month. They just ignored him, though, downing yet another glass of whiskey.

* * *

"Do you still want to go? I understand if you don't."

Gerard shook their head. "No, I'm coming. Just. . .can I bring a beer or something?"

Pete frowned. "Gerard, if you get drunk, even more drunk, that is, you'll never be able to walk to the cemetery. Just try and deal with being half-sober for an hour or so, for Mikey."

"Fine," Gerard reluctantly agreed, casting one last glance of longing towards the booze cabinet. "Let's just hurry the fuck up and go before I change my mind."

The two teens set off down the sidewalk, shivering slightly in the frigid winter air. "It's cold, Pete," Gerard complained.

Pete looked at them and sighed. When had the lively teenager who used to make sex noises behind a wall transformed to the immature alcoholic beside him? Why hadn't Pete stopped the change at its roots? Why hadn't he stayed sober that night? He shook his head, refusing to let himself dwell in the inescapable waters of self-hatred. That, Pete realized, was where Gerard had lost themself. They had lingered in their mind far too long, and it hadn't turned out well. And the worst part of it all was that the one person who may have been able to reach Gerard hadn't spoken to them in weeks. Frank and Gerard had to reconcile soon; Pete didn't know what would happen if they didn't, if Gerard was left to continue their slow but steady deterioration.

In the end, it only took ten minutes to reach the cemetery where Mikey was buried. But for Gerard's unusually sober mind, it felt much longer. As they walked, trying to ignore the voices screaming in their head- _Fuck-up! Asshole! Kill yourself! I hate you! Weak!-_ they could feel Pete's concerned gaze steadily burning into their back. They knew their friend was worried, and they knew he had reason to be. But Gerard also knew that what everyone else saw was pleasant compared to what was happening inside of them. Internally, Gerard was crumbling, disintegrating, into little bits and pieces.

They'd set a date: January 16th. It was an even numbered day, a perfect square. Gerard liked that. And it wasn't close to any important holidays, so they wouldn't be putting a damper on any special day for anyone. And it was only 22 days away. Twenty-two days left of life. And while such a thought would probably frighten most people, Gerard welcomed it with open arms. They'd had enough time. They'd had more than enough time. They were ready to go. And go they would. Just 22 days. Less than a month. Enough time to write a letter or two, set their affairs in order. Gerard was looking forward to it, the light at the end of the tunnel being the only light in the darkness their life had become as of late. They knew that they were being an asshole to Pete, especially considering that he was grieving Mikey as well. But Gerard couldn’t stop themself. It would be better to leave the earth as an asshole that no one really missed than as a good friend and person that everyone mourned. Right?

“We’re almost to his grave, Gerard,” Pete said quietly. They nodded in response and kept following their companion’s feet along the grass, making a bit of a game out of avoiding the dead leaves scattering the ground.

Suddenly, Pete came to halt in front of the small gray tombstone marking Mikey’s grave. The engraving read MIKEY JAMES WAY, BELOVED SON AND BROTHER. Gerard could already feel a lump forming in their throat as they looked down on their brother’s grave. They instinctively reached for a drink, only to return empty-handed. Closing their eyes, Gerard stepped back from the tombstone and sank to the ground a couple of feet away. Meanwhile, Pete knelt in front of his boyfriend’s grave, unabashedly crying. “Merry Christmas, Mikey,” he whispered. “I miss you.” Mikey, of course, didn’t answer, and the cemetery was left in near silence.

The spell was soon broken, however, when the soft crunch of boots on leaves lifted Pete and Gerard’s heads: it was Frank. He looked just as bad as Gerard, exhausted and heartbroken.”H-hey, Pete,” he stammered, obviously not expecting to see him or Gerard. “Hey, Gerard.”

“Hey, Frank,” said Pete. “Come to visit Mikey?”

Frank nodded. “Yeah. I was kinda hoping to see Gerard too, but I didn’t really expect to.” Awkwardly, he sat down next to Gerard, still leaving at least a foot of space between them. Gerard remained silent, focus clearly trained on their brother’s grave and eyes cast downward. They had their knees pulled to their chest, and Pete could see their shoulders beginning to shake. The sight almost made him feel bad for depriving Gerard of their usual alcohol. “Gerard,” Frank began hesitantly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said.” When Gerard simply ignored him, Frank continued. “The second those words left my mouth, I wished that I could take them back. I was just upset and irrational because you wouldn’t let me in. These past few weeks without you have been absolute hell. Do you- do you think you can ever forgive me?” His voice trembled as he spoke the last sentence, and he turned to Gerard, scared but hopeful.

Gerard was silent for what felt like an eternity. They had no idea what to say. They forgave Frank; they knew he had just been angry. Besides, the entire argument had been Gerard’s fault in the first place. They missed Frank. There was no denying that. But would having him back for the last 22 days be worth the pain Frank would feel when Gerard left for good? Eventually, Gerard decided that it would have to be, that Frank deserved their complete forgiveness. “It’s okay, Frank. I forgive you, and I’m sorry for the things I said.”

Frank gave them a huge smile before scooting over and wrapping his arms around them. “I love you, Gee,” he whispered, voice thick with a thousand emotions.

“I know,” Gerard replied quietly, not quite ready to say ‘I love you’ again. Frank seemed to understand that, and he settled comfortably against Gerard’s arm.

Pete smiled a bit as he heard the exchange behind him. “See that, Mikey?” he said, talking to the tombstone as if Mikey could hear him. “Gerard’s found someone. They really miss you, though. We all do.” He sighed before continuing. “I know I’ve said it a million times, but I’m really goddamn sorry, Mikey. You never deserved to die so young. I still feel shitty about it. I can’t stop reliving that morning in my head. Honestly, the only time I’m not thinking about it is when I’m high. Bert McCracken- you know who I’m talking about? He’s got the best deals on coke, so I’ve been going to him pretty often. Don’t worry, though, I’m okay. Missing you hurts like hell, but I’m dealing with it. I don’t know about Gerard, though.” Pete took a deep, shaky breath. “I love you, Mikeyway. I really fucking love you and always will. Merry Christmas, baby.” Feigning casualty, Pete rose from the cold grass and wiped his eyes. “I’m gonna head on back now. See you two later.”

With that, he was gone, and Frank and Gerard pretended that they didn’t hear him crying as he went. After a moment, Gerard stood and walked over to Mikey’s grave, looking down on the cold gray stone through the haze of tears clouding their eyes. “Merry Christmas, bro,” they began, voice cracking just enough to make Frank take their hand in his. “I hope that you’re having an epic celebration wherever you are, if you even are anywhere. You deserve it, Mikey. I miss you a lot, you know. I just wish that you didn’t have to leave. But you’re still gone.” Gerard smiled, though it was devoid of joy, and brushed away the tears that were brimming in their eyes. “I miss you, Mikey. A fucking lot. And-” _And I’ll be gone soon, disappearing with you._ The words Gerard couldn’t bring themself to speak with Frank so close by dangled in the air for a split second before they were shut back inside. Gerard tried to finish talking to their little brother, but they just couldn’t.

So, with one last look at Mikey’s grave, Gerard turned and practically ran from the cemetery. Frank followed, providing wordless support as the pair silently agreed to go back to Gerard’s house. When they arrived, Gerard went straight into their room and pulled out a bottle of beer from the six-pack they had stored in a cooler under their bed. Frank frowned but didn’t verbally protest, reluctant to shatter what he and Gerard had just found again. “Sorry,” Gerard said, falling back onto their bed and taking a sip of beer. “I just. . .couldn’t.”

“It’s okay,” Frank comforted, sitting next to them on the bed. “I understand.”

“Thank you, Frank.” Gerard leaned into their boyfriend’s warm side and breathed deeply. “God, I’ve missed your smell.”

“I’ve missed you too, Gee.” Frank kissed Gerard’s cheek lightly, and the older teen smiled. But it was a vague smile, obviously a conditioned response for when they were deep in thought. What Frank didn’t know was what Gerard was thinking about so intensely: January 16th. They weren’t considering backing out or even postponing it. No, January 16th would be Gerard Way’s death date. That much was set in stone. But Gerard couldn’t help but wonder what the days after would bring for Frank. What would he do when he heard the news? Would he be okay? Who would tell him? Gerard didn’t want to think about the answers to their questions, so they sat up from Frank a bit and drank more of their beer, downing about a third of the bottle’s contents.

Frank hated seeing Gerard like that- drunk and depressed. “Hey, Gee, when was the last time you played guitar?”

The older teen glanced over at their dusty instrument. “The day before Mikey died. I feel so shitty about never playing for him, you know?”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. But still- it’s something you love to do. You can’t just give up on it.”

Gerard thought for a moment, drinking more beer as they did so. “Good point. But there’s something else that I like doing more.”

“What?”

Gerard smirked as they placed their beer on their bedside table. “You.”

“Like you’re the one doing me,“ Frank snorted.

“Just shut up and kiss me already,” replied Gerard, leaning over and pressing their lips to Frank’s. He pressed back, ignoring the hints of alcohol he could taste on Gerard’s lips. Before either of them knew it, the floor was littered with clothes and Gerard was absolutely delighted to find that they couldn’t think at all. 

* * *

“You should totally go play the guitar before you put any clothes on, Gee,” Frank suggested, after. He and Gerard were lying on Gerard’s bed, sweaty and tangled in sheets instead of clothes.

Gerard turned their head to look at Frank skeptically. “Seriously?”

He nodded. “Seriously. Like, I want to see you playing your guitar in the nude. But not like, sexual nudity- though that’s always nice. Just comfy nudity, you know?”

“Okay, I guess I’ll try it,” Gerard replied, sitting up. “What do you want me to play?”

Frank shrugged. “Whatever you want, baby.”

“Alright.” Gerard got up from the bed and crossed the room to get their guitar. Had they been in the room with anyone else than Frank, their self-consciousness would’ve been crippling. Their legs were unsteady, partially because of the amazing sex they’d just had but mostly because of how nervous they were to play guitar again. They didn’t want to break down. _Why did I always refuse to play for Mikey?_ Gerard wondered. It was such a stupid thing to do. _He asked so many times, just trying to get closer to me._

With a sigh, they lifted their guitar from its stand and returned to the bed. Gerard sat down and started tuning the guitar. After almost two months of disuse, there wasn’t a string left in tune. It ended up taking Gerard nearly fifteen minutes to finish tuning it, Frank watching them, fascinated, all the while. “You’re beautiful,” he commented sincerely.

“Shut up,” Gerard answered, blushing. One of their many secrets was how much they hated themself, hated the layer of baby fat they’d never quite managed to lose. Their self-hatred was a significant contributor to Gerard’s desire to leave. But they didn’t feel up to dwelling on that now, when they were sitting in front of Frank and about to play guitar without a shred of clothing on. After a brief moment of thought, Gerard decided to play Nine in the Afternoon by Panic! At the Disco. Without meaning to, they gave the normally upbeat song a much sadder tone, pouring their emotions into each chord they strummed. “Just the way that we do, when it’s nine in the afternoon,” sang Gerard as the song came to a close.

Frank grinned encouragingly and clapped. “That was awesome, Gee,” he complimented.

“Thanks, Frank. You know what?”

“What?”

“I want to play for my mom,” they decided. “And for Mikey.” _I don’t want to die without ever really playing for either of them (even though it’s already too late for Mikey)._

“Really?” asked Frank, surprised.

Gerard nodded. “Yeah. While I put some clothes on, will you go get my mom and bring her up here? I need to do this now.”

“Okay,” agreed Frank, happy that Gerard seemed almost okay. He got dressed and left, and Gerard quickly hid their mostly-empty beer bottle before throwing on some clothes. What song would they play for their mom? They already knew what to play for Mikey: it was an original song that they’d been working on since his funeral. Eventually, they decided on That Green Gentleman, one that they’d played for Frank so long ago.

It wasn’t long before Frank returned with Mrs. Way, who looked confused that Gerard was actually going to play for her. They motioned for her and Frank to sit down on the bed as well, and Gerard was suddenly very grateful that they’d made the bed and cleaned everything up before their mother came in. Without any further introduction, Gerard started playing and let the song carry them away. It was intimate, playing so openly for people, but Gerard didn’t want to regret never playing for their mother when they stood under the stars.

After what seemed like hours, the song came to a close. Mrs. Way looked very impressed. “Gerard, honey, that was beautiful.”

They blushed. “Thanks, Mom. There’s one more song I want to play. I-I wrote it for Mikey.” Without waiting for a reaction, Gerard began to sing.

_“So long to all my friends_

_Everyone of them met tragic ends_

_With every passing day_

_I’d be lying if I didn’t say_

_That I miss them all tonight_

_And if they only knew what I would say_

_If I could be with you tonight_

_I would sing you to sleep_

_Never let them take the light behind your eyes_

_One day I’ll lose this fight_

_As we fade in the dark_

_Just remember you will always burn as bright_

_Be strong and hold my hand_

_Time—it comes for us, you’ll understand_

_We’ll say goodbye today_

_And I'm sorry how it ends this way_

_If you promise not to cry_

_Then I’ll tell you just what I would say_

_If I could be with you tonight_

_I would sing you to sleep_

_Never let them take the light behind your eyes_

_I’ll fail and lose this fight_

_Never fade in the dark_

_Just remember you will always burn as bright_

_The light behind your eyes_

_The light behind your_

_Sometimes we must grow stronger and_

_You can be stronger when I'm gone_

_When I’m here, no longer_

_You must be stronger and_

_If I could be with you tonight_

_I would sing you to sleep_

_Never let them take the light behind your eyes_

_I failed and lost this fight_

_Never fade in the dark_

_Just remember you will always burn as bright_

_The light behind your eyes_

_The light behind your eyes_

_The light behind your eyes_

_The light behind your eyes_

_The light behind your eyes_

_The light behind your eyes_

_The light behind your eyes_

_The light behind your eyes_

_The light behind your eyes_

_The light behind your eyes,”_

When the song came to an end, everyone in the room was in tears, especially Mrs. Way. “T-that was beautiful, Gerard. I’m sorry for crying, it’s just, I-” “It’s okay, Mom. I get it,” consoled Gerard, who was also in tears. “I get it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed the chapter:) any and all feedback is greatly appreciated. have a wonderful day/night:)  
> *I do not own The Light Behind Your Eyes. All credit goes to My Chemical Romance*


	10. Losing Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also on my wattpad: @justadude77

The next few days were certainly what Gerard would call a mixed bag. There was the happiness of having Frank back, but it was tainted by their impending suicide. They put constant effort into making sure that that remained a secret, though.

After all, if Frank found out. . .they would most likely be stopped. So they hid their pain with alcohol- lots of it. A sober Gerard was about as common as a chilly day in hell. Frank absolutely hated it, if he was honest. And he was especially mad at Pete for providing Gerard with alcohol. So one morning before Gerard woke up (Frank was spending the night at the Way’s a lot. Mrs. Way was too busy working and dealing with Mikey’s death to worry about it, and school wouldn’t be back in session for a few more days), Frank slipped out of bed and went to Pete’s.

When the sixteen year old opened the door, most likely expecting Gerard, Frank stepped right inside. “Look, Pete, I know you still feel shitty about the accident and all, and I know that you’re friends with Gerard. But you really need to cut them off from the drinks. They’re really worrying me.”

Pete sighed, obviously not prepared to deal with concerned boyfriends at eight in the morning. “I get it, Frank, I really do- you’re worried about Gerard. But you haven’t heard them at two in the morning when they come stumbling in here because they can’t handle their thoughts sober. They’ve been through some rough shit, and the drinks are just their way of coping. They need them, Frank.”

“And that’s exactly what I don’t want! There are so many other, better, less self-destructive ways to deal with grief. They don’t need to become a teenage alcoholic!”

_“I_ was a teenage alcoholic,” Pete mumbled.

“Exactly. And look where that landed us all.”

“At least I stopped. That is possible, you know.”

Frank frowned. “Yeah, but I know you’re not clean. What are you on now, Pete? Crack? Meth?”

“Coke, actually,” he corrected. “It’s quite nice.”

“Oh my God. Do not get addicted to coke, Pete. That’s a serious thing.”

The younger teen shrugged. “It’s not an addiction, per se. . .more of a healthy obsession.”

“Pete! Do I really need to be staging two interventions here?” Frank exclaimed, concerned for the boy he would now count as a friend.

“No, no, it’s fine, I was kidding. I usually only get high once or twice a week. I’m fine right now, in fact. Anyway,” he added hastily. “I understand that you’re worried about Gerard. I get it. But instead of having me just cut them off, why don’t you try talking to them?”

“I’ve tried, Pete, really, I have, but they just won’t open up. It’s like something other than Mikey is chewing at them.”

“Huh. Maybe we should go sit down,” Pete suggested as he led the way into the living room and took a seat on the couch.

“Won’t your parents mind?” Frank asked, obviously not caring too much about the answer as he sat down as well.

“Nah, they don’t give a fuck. Now. Do you think Gerard’s depressed or something?”

Frank wanted to say, “No!” right away, but then he actually thought about Pete’s question. Was Gerard depressed? They did have several symptoms, now that he thought about it. . . “I-I don’t know,” he confessed. “They might be.”

“Okay. Uh, has Gerard ever mentioned anything about wanting to die?”

“You mean. . .you think they’re suicidal?” Frank suddenly found it hard to breathe. Gerard? Suicidal? Was it possible? Worse still, was it _true?_

“I don’t know. But I’ve, uh, I’ve been there myself,” Pete admitted, “and Gerard just may be. You know them much better than I do, though.”

Frank thought about Gerard’s behavior over the past months, reanalyzing every action he had contributed to grief for Mikey. “Shit, Pete, I don’t know. They’ve never blatantly mentioned a death wish, but then again, they shy away whenever I try to get them to open up.” He closed his eyes for a moment, breaths shallow. “God, I couldn’t believe it if. . .”

“Frank. It’s okay. Breathe for a moment. We’re just speculating here, remember?” Pete put a firm hand on Frank’s shoulder. “Just breathe.”

Frank took several deep breaths. “Okay. I’m okay. Do you think I should ask them about it?”

“Hmm. . .” Pete considered the question briefly before replying. “Well, I don’t know. If they are suicidal, asking them about it might scare them away. But it also might encourage them to open up. On the other hand, if they aren’t suicidal, asking them about it could plant the idea in their head, which would not be good. So you probably shouldn’t ask them. But then again, if you don’t say anything, and Gerard does want to kill themself, they might actually do it, and then-”

“Pete,” Frank interrupted,” you’re not helping. We actually need to try and figure this out.”

Pete blushed slightly. “Sorry. I’m just getting worried for Gerard too. I mean, if they did commit suicide, it would be partially my fault. I couldn’t live with causing both them and Mikey’s death. Anyway. Solutions. Maybe you should try reminding them that you love them and that you’re here for them. That could help.”

“Okay. I’ll try it, I guess. I should probably be getting back soon, though. Thanks for everything, Pete. Don’t go overboard on the coke, you hear?”

Pete nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be careful. Keep me posted, Frank. Oh, and I’ll try and slow Gerard on the drinks.”

Frank gave him a grateful smile as he rose. “Thank you, Pete.” As he left the Wentz’, Frank’s mind was a tornado of worry. _Was_ Gerard going to kill themself? Did they want to? Were they as okay as they always claimed?

Meanwhile, Gerard had woken up alone. They had been disappointed by Frank’s disappearance but had shaken it off. (Sort of. They were still slightly hurt, but they knew that Frank did have a life outside of their relationship.) They hadn’t been that hungry, substituting a bottle of beer for breakfast before sitting down at their desk to plan for their suicide note; it had to get done sometime, after all. They had something else in mind to leave for Frank, but their mom would receive the traditional.

_**Dear Mom, I’m sorry. I hate doing this to you, knowing what the effects will be, but I just can’t take it anymore. I’m sorry. Tell everyone that I’m sorry, because I really, really am. Without Mikey, though, I just can’t take it anymore. I’ve been feeling this low for years, since around eighth grade. I’ve been holding on as tightly as I can, but I’m slipping. Again, I’m unspeakably sorry for leaving like this. Don’t feel bad for getting mad at me. I would be angry too. And I’m still so very sorry. Stay strong whe-** _

“Hey, Gee. What are you writing?”

A deer in headlights, Gerard hastily flipped the paper over and looked up at their boyfriend, who was standing in the doorway. “Oh, uh, nothing,” they lied. “Just some lyrics I thought up. Where were you?”

Frank didn’t quite believe Gerard, but he didn’t push it. “I just needed to go for a walk. I would’ve asked you to come with me, but you were still asleep.”

“Oh.” Trying to act casual, Gerard slipped their draft into one of their cluttered desk drawers before Frank could decipher any of the messily scrawled words. They then took another sip of beer, finishing off their first bottle of the day's booze.

Frank watched them, wincing internally. "Gerard," he ventured forth, "are you sure that you should be drinking this early in the morning?"

They waved him off nonchalantly. "It's fine. I just. . .need it, you know?"

Frank didn't know, but he didn't say that as he stepped into Gerard's room and perched himself on the edge of the bed. "I'm just worried about you, Gee. I don't want to make you upset, I want to make sure you're okay."

"I'm fine, Frank," Gerard snapped, not meeting his gaze. Seeing their boyfriend's hurt expression, though, they softened infinitesimally. "Sorry for snapping at you. I didn't mean it. It's just that. . . .I need you to believe me, okay? I'm fine, I'm just trying to work through Mikey being gone." The half-lies pained Gerard to tell, but they knew that the truth would be far worse. "Now," they continued quickly, "I've been, uh, working on a new song. Want to hear it?" Gerard wasn't particularly keen on sharing their latest song with Frank, considering the extremely personal subject matter, but it was better than having him try to pry further.

"Of course," Frank said. Both teens knew that Gerard was just trying to change the subject, but Frank decided to just go with it.

Gerard went and got their guitar, singing softly along to the melancholy chords they strummed.

_"I always loved birds_

_The way they fly_

_The way they soar_

_I’d love to be a bird_

_I’d love to fly_

_But I’m only human_

_I don’t have wings_

_I can’t fly, can’t soar_

_I’m only human_

_Well, I’m gonna fly_

_Yeah, one day, I will_

_I’m gonna fly_

_If only for a moment_

_If only for a moment_

_If only for one day_

_If only for a moment_

_If only for a moment_

_I’m gonna fly."_

Once they were finished, Gerard wordlessly returned their guitar to its stand. That had probably been the hardest song to share so far. Hoping the song's meaning hadn't been glaringly obvious, Gerard pulled a fresh bottle of beer out from under their bed and cracked it open, taking a long swig and rapidly blinking away the tears that had risen unbidden to their eyes.

Frank stood and wrapped a comforting arm around Gerard. "That was beautiful, baby," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to their cheek. "I love you."

"I-I love you too," Gerard managed, trying to shove all thoughts of January 16th from their mind. "And I'm sorry for being such an asshole lately."

"It's okay. I get it."

But Frank didn't get it. He wouldn't get it until January 16th, but Gerard suddenly found themself too distracted by Frank's lips to really care. They made love instead of fucking that time, slow and gentle and passionate. Gerard could still think, sort of, but their mind was mostly just a haze of pleasure and their love for Frank. They loved him, they truly did. Never once had they lied about that. And it hurt like hell to know that he would be alone all too soon. But they certainly weren't thinking about that as they ran their hands along the inky tendrils on Frank's skin.

* * *

After both Frank and Gerard had put on pants and boxers, they'd crawled back under the covers together. Gerard had one arm loosely wrapped around Frank's waist, and the younger teen was nestled against their warm chest. Gently touching their lips to the top of Frank's head, Gerard smiled for the first time in what felt like forever, even if it was only a small one. "I love you, Frank," they whispered.

"I love you too, Gee," Frank answered. He was relieved that Gerard seemed happy and okay, that their beer had long since been discarded and left on the desk. Despite the comfort of the moment, though, Frank couldn't help but worry about Gerard. Were they depressed? Suicidal? If they were, would they ever talk to Frank about it? More importantly, would they ever go through with anything? Frank knew that Gerard didn't cut, at least. But clean wrists didn't mean much of anything, really. And the song that Gerard had just sung. Maybe Frank was overanalyzing, but the lyrics hadn't exactly sounded hopeful or happy. _'If only for a moment/ I'm gonna fly_.' Did Gerard mean that they were going to kill themself? Frank didn't know, and he wasn't quite sure whether he wanted to or not.

But he didn't say anything then, not wanting to ruin the pleasant post-sex bubble he and Gerard were currently in. Later, he would look back on that moment and curse himself for not having the guts to speak up before things truly got bad.

* * *

"Gerard, it's January 4th. You have to go back to school today, and you can't be drunk."

Gerard frowned at Frank, defiantly drinking more of their beer. "The only way I'm going is if I'm drunk, Frank. Otherwise, I'll just stay home."

Exasperated, Frank sighed in defeat. "Fine, Gee. Go to school drunk. Not my fault when the police get involved for underage drinking."

"Like I give a fuck about the police. They can go fuck themselves," Gerard proclaimed as they threw on black skinny jeans and their favorite Green Day shirt.

"Whatever you say, Gee," Frank replied, deciding to just let them be an idiot. It probably was a very emotional time, after all: Gerard's first time back at school after Mikey's death. "You ready to go?"

"Almost," Gerard answered, pulling on a pair of combat boots and lacing them up. "Alright, let's just get this the fuck over with."

Frank rolled his eyes affectionately as the two teens left the Way's and started off down the sidewalk towards Monroeville High. Gerard was very clearly drunker than anyone had the right to be at 7:30 in the morning, but it was impossible to convince them to sober up even a bit, as Frank had learned. In fact, they must have been more intoxicated than Frank had known, which he realized when they suddenly lost their balance and fell into some bushes that were lining the sidewalk. "Gee! Are you okay?" exclaimed Frank, kneeling down to check on the seventeen year-old that was now lying helplessly amidst the shrubbery.

They shrugged. "I don't know, Frank. Help me up?" Frank held out a hand and pulled Gerard to their unsteady feet. They brushed themself off and shook their head. "I told you that coming to school was a bad idea, Frankie," they stated, sounding very self-righteous for a drunk person.

"And I told you that getting drunk was an even worse idea," he pointed out. "Let's just try and get there without any more incidents, 'kay?"

"I'll try," Gerard sighed, leaning into Frank so as not to fall again. Frank just sighed, knowing that it would be a very long walk. They finally made it, though, albeit a few minutes late. When they arrived, Frank kissed Gerard on the cheek before hurrying off to his first-block class.

Gerard wasn't as interested in getting to class, though, so they ambled around a bit outside. Eventually, though, a teacher spotted them and ushered them inside. Class was uneventful for the drunk teen, the alcohol in their system rendering Gerard incapable of actually paying attention to anything their teacher said. They could hear the whispers all around them: Gerard Way, Mikey's brother, dead, funeral, Mikey, but they just ignored them, too drunk to care. None of it would matter in twelve days anyway. Twelve days. That was all that was left for them. Twelve last days of hell before they were forever free. And that thought was absolutely glorious to Gerard when they didn't think about Frank. They thought about Frank a lot, though. They still didn't want to hurt him. But Gerard was at a certain point, a point where the only thing they cared about was getting out. And they would be doing just that in twelve days. Twelve short days. Just under two weeks. Two hundred and eighty-eight hours. _Twelve days_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! any and all feedback is greatly appreciated. have a superb day/night:)


	11. January 16th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **severe trigger warning for this chapter: suicidal thoughts/actions. stay safe<3**

Those twelve days went by faster than Gerard ever would have guessed. All too soon, it was January 16th.

Gerard was woken by their alarm. They hadn't slept very well, as their head had been filled with the fascinating idea of the previous night being the last time they ever fell asleep. As they rubbed the sleep from their eyes, they thought, _This is it. This is the last time I will ever wake up._ And as terrifying as such a thought was, it was also strangely relieving. _This is the last time I will ever wake up._ They slowly got dressed. Again, another last. There was something strangely wonderful about the finality of it all, of the last day. The last morning. The last sparse breakfast of Gerard's unique concoction of beer and coffee. The last time they would ever step out into the light of a new morning. Such an abundance of lasts might be painful to some. To Gerard, it was just tragically beautiful.

They were slightly sad, if it could even be called that. But it was mostly a peculiar happiness at the fact that they would be gone by the day's end, that it would all be over soon.

"Hey, Gee," Frank greeted. He was standing at the corner of Gerard's street, where the couple had agreed to meet each morning so they could walk to school together.

"Hey, Frank." Gerard went up and hugged him tightly, wanting to show him just how much they loved him before they left. "I love you."

Frank was caught off-guard but went with it anyway, wrapping his arms around Gerard's warm body. "I love you too, baby. Let's get to school." They set off, hand in hand, and Gerard once again lost in glorious revelations of lasts. The last morning meeting with Frank, the last time they walked to Monroeville High together. The last, the last, the last.

"Hey, have you heard from Pete lately?" Gerard asked, suddenly concerned about the friend that they would be leaving behind. They knew he had started getting into coke; hopefully he wasn't too deep into the pit of drugs.

"Yeah, I talked to him in math yesterday, actually. I think he was high, though," Frank replied.

Gerard frowned. "Make sure he's careful with that stuff, Frank. It's no joke."

Frank looked at them strangely, probably wondering why they were asking _him_ to watch out for Pete. "Okay, Gee." 

* * *

_Last time I set foot in this building. Last time I see this teacher. Last time I sit in this desk. Last time I hear this bell. Last time I sit underneath this tree. Last time I close this locker. Last time I walk out of this school._ For Gerard, the day passed in a blur of lasts, conclusions, ends. Everything held a beautiful finality, and the relief of it was abundant. For them, nothing would be left by the time the sun rose the next morning. Gerard would _finally_ be gone.

When the final bell rang, signaling the end to their last day of school, Gerard stepped out into the cool air and almost smiled. After they jumped, they would never again face a mirror or a scale, never again be forced to fake a smile to hide the tears. It would be the end. The final end. They saw Frank waiting out on the sidewalk outside of the school, a smile appearing on his face when he caught sight of Gerard. They smiled back, Frank's obliviousness to the day's planned events painful in a relieving way. He wasn't worried, he was happy, and Gerard needed that. Of course, Frank probably wouldn't be very happy when he found out, but he was happy now.

"Hey, Frank," Gerard called as they walked over to their boyfriend. "How are you?"

"Good," he replied. "How about you?"

"Alright," Gerard answered. It wasn't the entire truth, but it wasn't a blatant lie, either. "Who's house are we going to today?"

"Do you want to come over to my place?" Frank said.

"Sure," replied Gerard. It would, after all, be easier to leave the Iero's than to make up some lame excuse as to why Frank had to leave, and he would have to leave eventually. Gerard had to finish their parting message for him, and then they were leaving. They were finally leaving.

The pair began their walk in silence, loosely holding hands. Gerard drank in as much as they could of the last time they would be outside in the not-quite-warm January sunlight with Frank, the last time they would hear soft birdsong flitting around the trees, the last time they would ever have a Friday afternoon. When they reached Frank's house, the two teens went into his bedroom and before either of them knew it, Gerard was kissing Frank almost crushingly, saying a physical goodbye to the boy they loved.

When the two had sex that afternoon, it was wild and strong and all of the words that Gerard could never, would never say. They were laying on Frank's rumpled sheets after, a tangle of sweaty limbs and love. "I don't know what that was, Gee, but I fucking loved it," Frank proclaimed.

Gerard smiled. "I love you, Frank. Always."

"I love you too," Frank answered, kissing Gerard lightly.

With a content sigh, Gerard closed their eyes. "Can we just live in this moment forever?" they asked.

"I wish."

And Gerard wished, too. They didn't want to leave Frank. But they had to. They _had_ to leave, because it was January 16th and it was the end and they hated themself and couldn't take anything anymore. They were weak. And they had to die, even if that meant leaving Frank.

"You okay, Gee?" Frank's voice brought Gerard back, and they opened their eyes to see his concerned gaze.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just want to stay here with you forever," they replied, "you know?"

Frank nodded in agreement and rested his head on Gerard's pale shoulder, trying not to think about the possibility of them being suicidal. _Should I ask them about it?_ he silently wondered. But just as he had done before, Frank decided against ruining his and Gerard's fragile happiness. Gerard hadn't even had a single drink that day, after all. Frank didn't know what that was all about, but he certainly wasn't complaining.

Gerard and Frank lay in a blissful haze for almost an hour, talking and kissing and cuddling. It was everything Gerard needed for their last day with Frank. And maybe they were acting slightly strange, and maybe Frank noticed, but no one said anything. No one said a word when Gerard started tearing up without warning, or when they kissed Frank like they were trying to melt into him. No one said a single goddamn word because no one wanted to risk seeing behind the ugly truth behind Gerard's walls. And Gerard was happy for that one last afternoon that drifted into that one last night with the boy they loved.

Eventually, though, the sun was sinking slowly below the horizon and Gerard knew that they would be going soon. "As much fun as this has been, I should probably be going home," Gerard said, almost regretfully.

"Okay," Frank obliged. "But before you go, come sit out on the roof with me for a few minutes."

"Alright," agreed Gerard. "For a few."

So Frank went and opened his back window, and he and Gerard climbed out onto the almost-flat roof and watched the sun slip away. _The last sunset I'll ever see_ , thought Gerard. Frank didn't want to say what he did next, but he knew he had to ask sometime.

"So, Gerard. . .how have you been lately?"

They shrugged. "Okay, I guess. Why?"

"Just checking on you. I noticed that you've been sober today," Frank pointed out.

"Yeah. I just kinda realized how much of life you miss when you're drunk." That wasn't really it, of course. Gerard had just wanted Frank's last memory of them to be sober and happy as possible.

"That's good. I worry, you know?"

"Yeah." Gerard suddenly found it difficult to meet Frank's gaze, knowing what was going to happen all too soon.

"Gee-" Frank paused, unsure of how to continue. "I'm not assuming anything or trying to pry or any of that shit, I just. . ."

"You just what?" Gerard asked, praying that Frank hadn't figured it out.

"Are you depressed, Gee? I'm not trying to, like, jump to con-"

Gerard cut him off with a kiss, closing their eyes to fend off the tears. When they pulled away, they smiled at Frank. "I'm fine, Frank. Really. I promise." The dishonesty wasn't something Gerard was proud of, necessarily, but what were they supposed to say? 'Oh, yeah, about that. . .I've wanted to die for years and am going to kill myself tonight,' or something like that? Fuck no.

Frank relaxed, letting himself believe their words (for the time being, at least). "Hey, look," Gerard said then, waving a hand towards the wide expanse of sky above them. "It's your favorite color." Frank looked up and saw that, yes, the sky was his favorite dark blue, about to fade to black. Gerard studied the sky as well, seeing the colors almost as a metaphor for their situation: the colors were fading, and soon there would be nothing left. It was a beautifully tragic thought. Frank then turned to Gerard with a question on his lips, bringing him back. "How did you remember that? I told you that months ago."

Gerard gave a small, nonchalant shrug. "I just. . .do. You're the best thing that ever happened to me, you know? How could I forget a single moment spent with you?"

Knowing that words would only fail him, Frank leaned in and kissed Gerard deeply. "I love you, Gerard Way," he said after. "Now and forever."

"I love you too, Frank Iero. Never forget it. I love you so goddamn much." And then Gerard was kissing him for what they knew would be the last time. 

* * *

Once they were back in their house, Gerard quickly completed their final message for Frank and left it on their desk, where they knew he would find it, and wrote the last few sentences of their note for the mother. There. They were finished. It was time. After double-checking that everything was in place for Frank, Gerard left their room without looking back. This was it. As they made their way through the empty house, Gerard refused to let themself think too much about the mother they were leaving behind. She was working again, thankfully, and wouldn't know about them until later. Gerard stepped out of the building that they had called home for so many years without much nostalgia. It really wasn't anything more to them than a building, than bricks and wood. The memories that they cherished had been made by the people inside of it, after all, not the house itself.

So they locked the door behind them without any lingering sentimentality and started walking to the nearest bus stop. Once they arrived, Gerard sat down on the lonely bench and breathed deeply. This was it. They were finally on their way to the end. Never again would they return to their neighborhood, their home. Never again. The bus pulled up and Gerard boarded, grateful to see that almost all of the seats were empty. They really didn't want to deal with annoying, loud people on their last night of life. Taking a seat by one of the dark windows, Gerard looked up at the starry sky. Thankfully, it was a clear night, scarcely a cloud in sight. The stars would get to watch their demise, just as Gerard had always wanted.

After about fifteen minutes, the bus came to a halt at Gerard's stop and they climbed off. They must have been a sight, a teenager wandering into the city at ten at night, dressed in all black with faint traces of eyeliner streaks still slightly visible on their cheeks. But they really didn't give a single fuck about what other people thought as they walked briskly to Bryar Co. It really was time. It almost felt like a dream to Gerard as they stepped into the lobby of the building, extremely grateful that Bob and his dad were known for staying late at the office, and asked to go up to the roof to 'think.' Bob obliged, of course, as Gerard had done the very same thing many times before. He just didn't know how different this time was.

Gerard opted for the elevator. As the mirrored black box slowly rose into the air, they looked at themself in one of the glass panes. They looked almost scared, they realized, but there was something in their eyes telling them that they weren't going to back out. Gerard looked up at the small screen and watched the blinking green numbers count to 25. The floors ticked by agonizingly haltingly: 10. _Deep breath_. 11. _Deep breath._ 12\. _Deep breath._ 13\. _Deep breath_. 14. _Deep breath_. 15. _Deep breath_. Before Gerard knew it, a small 25 was staring them in the eye and the elevator doors were sliding open.

Inhaling deeply, they stepped out onto the tile floor and walked down the hallway to the plain gray door marked ROOF ACCESS. They gripped the metal railing tightly as they ascended the stairs, finally pushing a last door open and unsteadily stepping into the cold night air. They were on the roof. It was time. Shivering slightly, Gerard took slow steps over to the edge of the roof and looked down. Their stomach spun as they saw the cars whizzing by and the pinpricks of streetlights so far down below.

_Do I actually have the courage to go through with this?_ They did, though. They didn't have a choice. Sure, Gerard could back down then, but that only meant that they would be back the next night. And the next. And the next. And then next, and every single goddamn night after that until they finally did work up the courage. So, no, they didn't really have a choice. It was the last day. It was January 16th, and it was over for Gerard.

Taking a deep breath, Gerard hugged themself tightly, inhaling the comforting scent of Frank on his old hoodie, which they currently wearing. While it mostly smelled like them by that point, there were still traces of its original owner, and Gerard took comfort in that. It would all be okay. They would get to fly, and then it would all be over. They would never again cry or be hurt. It would all be over. Gerard looked up at the stars, watching them glitter innocently above them. The stars had no idea what was about to happen. No one did. No one had ever really looked closely enough at the lonely emo that was Gerard Way. Frank had tried, hell, Frank had gotten so goddamn close to the truth. But still, no one knew. No one knew where Gerard was at that moment, and maybe if someone had, they could've saved them.

But no one knew. They were alone in that moment, in that night, and Gerard knew it. They were alone. Frank had been their first real friend in who knows how many years. They were just the kid everyone picked on at school, just the perfect target for jeers and punches. Nothing more, really. Frank was one of the very few people who had actually treated Gerard Way decently in their miserable life, but even he didn't know what Gerard was doing on the night of January 16th. No one fucking knew.

And so Gerard was completely alone, and Frank was lying in bed with no idea about what was about to happen, and Mrs. Way was entirely oblivious to the fact that she was about to lose her second child, and the only ones around were the stars twinkling above as Gerard took one last deep breath and jumped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! any and all feedback is greatly appreciated. have an excellent day/night! (i'm running out of good adjectives, sry)


	12. Time To Say Goodbye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also on my wattpad: @justadude77

On January 17th, Frank woke up at two am with a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. He wasn't sure of the cause, but it was persistent and heavy and keeping him from sleep. He tossed and turned, trying to fall back asleep to no avail. He just couldn't shake the feeling that something was horribly, terribly wrong. The longer he lay awake and staring at his ceiling, the worse the feeling got. Something was _wrong_. Something awful had happened. Frank just had no idea what it was.

Eventually, the gnawing pit in his stomach became unbearable, and he got out of bed to call Gerard. True, it was ridiculously early in the morning, but, hey, Frank was seriously getting worried. As the phone rang with no answer, Frank couldn't help but wonder if his bad feeling had something to do with Gerard. But. . .it couldn't, right? Gerard was fine. They'd said so themself _: "I'm fine, Frank. Really. I promise."_

"Hey, it's Gerard. I can't get to the phone at the moment, but leave a message and I'll call you back." The pre-recorded message played and Frank frowned, hitting the call button again in the hopes that Gerard was just sleeping and therefore incapable of answering the phone. Anything else. . .no. " _I'm fine, Frank. Really. I promise."_ As he waited for an answer that felt like it would never come, Frank replayed Gerard's earlier words over and over in his head. _"I'm fine, Frank. Really. I promise. I'm fine, Frank. Really. I promise. I'm fine, Frank. I'm fine. I promise._ " And they were fine, right? They had to be fine. But there was still no answer to Frank's phone call, and the sinking feeling in his stomach only grew worse. Too worried to be rational, Frank shoved his feet into his old, ratty black sneakers and crept out of his house, breaking into a run once the door was shut tightly behind him.

Gerard was fine. He was just overreacting. Gerard was just sleeping or something, and Frank would come into their room at three in the morning and give them a heart attack, but it would be okay, because Gerard would be okay. They would be perfectly fine. Frank ran the fastest he'd ever ran in his life to the Way's, trying to ignore the grim sensation that only grew with every step he took. When he arrived, out of breath and terrified, he took the house key from its place inside of a flowerpot (Gerard had showed him where it was once, in case of an event such as the one currently unfolding) and entered the dark house.

As quietly as possible, Frank crept down the hall to Gerard's room, praying that they would be lying in bed asleep when he walked in. Where else would they be, anyway? Why wouldn't they be fine? Frank tried to be rational and calm, but there was still an unshakable sense that something was horribly wrong. When he reached the hall's end, Frank gently pushed Gerard's bedroom door open. The bed was empty. That was the first thing that Frank noticed, and it only caused his growing worry and fear to intensify. The bed was empty and still made and the entire room was unusually tidy for Gerard. It wasn't like they were messy, exactly, but there were usually a couple of empty beer bottles or papers scattered on the desk- _the desk_. Almost hesitantly, Frank turned his gaze on the desk. Its normal collection of loose lyrics and scribbles had been swept away and replaced with two small envelopes, one rectangle and one square. On the square one, in a scrawl recognizable as Gerard's, black ink spelled out FRANK. The other read MOM, but Frank was really only interested in the one marked for him.

He carefully opened the envelope, painfully curious to see its contents but also terrified of what he might find. All it contained was a CD and a small note telling him that the CD player was on the nightstand. Frank's mouth was dry as he walked over and placed the CD into the player. He made sure that the volume was turned down (though Mrs. Way's car hadn't been in the driveway; she was probably working the night shift like usual), not wanting to disturb the eerie stillness of the room too much, and hit PLAY with a shaking finger.

_"Hey, Frank_." Gerard's strangely shaky voice filled the silence and Frank sat down on the bed to listen, afraid what he would hear. _"So, if you're listening to this, then I finally did it. I finally ended it all. I -I killed myself."_ Frank couldn't breathe. He absolutely couldn't. Gerard had. . .committed suicide? No. It couldn't be real. It couldn't be. _No._ Frank kept listening to the words spilling out into the night, hoping that they would reveal that it was all a cruel joke. Gerard had paused for a moment after their last sentence, perhaps sensing that Frank would need a minute, but they continued. " _By the time that you hear this, I'll be lying on the pavement. I finally got to fly, Frank, just like I sang about. Do you remember that? Now, I really need you to know that I'm sorry for this. I would've been gone a lot sooner if it wasn't for you._

_"So thank you for that, and again, I cannot tell you how sorry I am for hurting you. I do love you, remember that. But you do need to move on from me, okay? Fall in love again. Meet someone new. Don't live the rest of your potential-filled life wishing that this never happened. And you had better stay there for Pete, you hear? He needs you. Don't let him get too deep into coke, okay? That stuff is serious. I love you, and I'm sorry, and I have one last song for you. Here it is, Frank._ "

Frank was sitting in a state of utter disbelief and shock as recording-Gerard started to play. He just couldn't comprehend it. Gerard was fine. They were going to show up any minute now, unharmed and alive. They weren't gone. They weren't lying, crumpled, on the street. They couldn't be. .. could they? Just then, recording-Gerard started to sing, and their soft words drew Frank in.

_"Lonely lunches under trees_

_Dark blue skies and black hoodies_

_One human wanting to fly_

_But not quite ready to say goodbye_

_A beautiful first kiss_

_Things went slightly amiss_

_But it was okay in the end_

_Broken hearts will always mend_

_An early morning tragedy_

_But you were always there for me_

_I know things haven't been that great_

_And I'm sorry that it's too late_

_An audience of stars_

_Above the passing cars_

_One human breathing in_

_Finally pulling the pin_

_Lonely lunches under trees_

_Dark blue skies and black hoodies_

_One human just wanting to fly_

_Finally ready to say goodbye_

_Sad to say goodbye_

_But it's time to say goodbye_

_Time to say goodbye_

_Time to say goodbye_

_Time to say goodbye_

_Time to say goodbye_

_Time to say goodbye_."

As the song came to a close, Frank found himself unable to cry, unable to do anything but sit in shock as recording-Gerard, audibly crying, said, _"It's time to say goodbye, Frank. I love you. Goodbye."_ And then there was a soft click, and the recording ended, and the room was once again filled with silence. Frank sat in shock, staring blankly at the CD player as if it would magically come on and play a new message, one that told him that Gerard was okay, that they were fine, that they hadn't just said goodbye.

He just couldn't believe it. Gerard had said that they were fine just hours before. Their voice still echoed in Frank's head, clear as a bell: " _I'm fine, Frank. Really. I promise."_ But those words were now tainted with others, with " _I killed myself_ ," and " _it's too late,"_ and " _goodbye."_   _But wait_ , Frank thought, a small voice of hope still trying to speak up. _What if it's not too late?_ And that slim, impossible chance had him whipping out his phone and dialing 911 as fast as he could possibly could.

"Hello, 911, what is your emergency?" A calm female voice came through the phone after what felt like hours.

"I-I know someone who has already or is going to commit suicide," Frank said unsteadily. He could barely utter the words.

"Okay. First off, what is your name and how do you know about this person's situation?"

"I'm Frank Iero, and I found their suicide note."

“Okay, Frank, the most important thing to do in this situation is to remain calm. Do you know where this person is?”

“No. All they said was that they would be lying on the pavement. I think they wanted to jump off of a building.”

“Do you know which building it may be or a general area? Also, what is this person’s name?”

“I have no idea. And it’s Gerard, Gerard Way.” There was a brief pause.

“Okay. Remember to remain calm, Frank. We’ll do all that we can to help Gerard, but we really need to have a starting point of where to look. If they’ve ever, even in passing, mentioned any tall buildings or anything of the like, I need you to try to remember and tell me.”

“Okay, I’ll try. . .” Frank racked his brains, focusing all of his mental energy on sorting through his memories of Gerard. As long as he didn’t think about why he was doing so, concentrating was actually almost possible. “Oh! The Bryar Co. building. Gerard mentioned that they knew the owner’s son, Bob, once, and how the roof was one of their favorite places to think. Oh, God. . .” he said, picturing Gerard standing on top of the roof, bathed in starlight.

“It’ll be okay, Frank. I’m dispatching aid to Bryar Co. right now. Is there anything else that you can tell me? Did Gerard mention a specific time in their note?”

“No, all they said was that by time I found it, they’d be gone. But they were probably expecting me to find it later today, not this early. Do you-do you think there’s a chance that Gerard’s okay?”

“I don’t know. I’m sorry. The ambulance is almost to the building now. If Gerard is there, we’ll do what we can for them. If you can hang up now, we can call you back as soon as we have information, okay?”

“O-okay. Thank you.” Frank hung up and dropped his head into his hands. Gerard had to be okay. It couldn’t be too late, could it? They had to be alive, they had to be fine, they had to, they had to, _they had to_. It was at that time that Frank realized that Gerard’s mother would probably want to know about what was going on, so he pulled out his phone and found her in his contacts. Frank was trying to think about anything but the possibility that he had been too late, that Gerard was gone, that they had taken their flight already as he hit CALL.

Mrs. Way picked up surprisingly quickly, she must have been on a break or something. "Hello? Is this Frank?"

"Yes. Mrs. Way, I'm sorry for calling at this hour, but I think Gerard is in trouble."

“Trouble? What do you mean?”

Frank took a deep breath. “I think they killed themself. I already called 911, and they’re doing what they can, I just thought you needed to know what was going on.”

There was a long pause before Mrs. Way answered, her voice faint. "Y-you think Gerard committed suicide? Why?"

"I, uh, found their notes."

Before he could explain further, another call began beeping in. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Way, but I think the 911 people are calling me back. I'll call back when I have news."

"Don't bother, I'm on my way home right now." Her voice was shaking, despite her obvious attempts to sound calm.

Frank hit the END CALL button and accepted the other call. It was the 911 operator again. "Hello, is this Frank Iero?"

"Yes, it is. H-how's Gerard?"

The operator's voice was gentle as she delivered the news. "I'm sorry, Frank. Gerard is dead. We were too late."

"No," gasped out Frank. "No. You can't-they have to-no." He sank to his knees on Gerard's bedroom floor, tears welling in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," repeated the operator sincerely, but Frank couldn't bear to hear her voice anymore. He hung up, even though you technically weren't supposed to do that with 911 calls, and just broke down, sobbing. Gerard couldn't be dead, they just couldn't be. They were supposed to be alive, they were supposed to be with Frank forever.

As he cried, Frank suddenly recalled a conversation he and Gerard had had several months ago, back around the time when they had first started dating.

" _So, Gee, what do you want to do when you grow up?"_

_Gerard shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe be in a band or something."_

_"Can we be in the band together?" "_

_Frank, do you even play an instrument?"_

_"Well, no, but I could totally sing or something."_

_"Okay," Gerard consented. "You can be in my band. What are we going to call ourselves?"_

_"Hmm. . .I don't know. It has to be something cool."_

_"Okay. . .how about The Confident Aliens?"_

_Frank wrinkled his nose. "That sounds awful. What about My Chemical Hatred or something like that?"_

_"My Chemical Hatred?" Gerard repeated skeptically. "No offense, Frank, but that sounds like something I would've come up with in my angsty preteen years." "_

_Fine. We'll decide on the name later. But we're still going to be in a band. Promise?" "_

_I promise."_

They had promised a future to Frank, but that was gone. It was over. They had killed themself. Frank didn't even know why, and he still could barely comprehend the truth. It all had to be a sick prank or a nightmare, and Gerard was about to pop out of their closet or Frank was about to wake up. Because it just couldn't be real. It couldn't be. Gerard had to be alive, and okay, because they couldn't have just left Frank like that. They had promised him forever and always. " _So, if you're listening to this, then I finally did it. I finally ended it all. I -I killed myself." "It's time to say goodbye, Frank. I love you. Goodbye._ " Frank didn't want to say goodbye. He had never wanted to. But Gerard had, and Gerard was gone, and Frank was left alone. _"It's time to say goodbye, Frank. I love you. Goodbye."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! there's just the epilogue, and then this story will be over. comments/kudos mean the world to me;) have an outstanding day/night:)


	13. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last chapter!!

**_TWO YEARS LATER_ **

It was January 16th. Early morning. Frank Iero was outside in the cool air, wearing a dark gray hoodie (It wasn't black. He couldn't wear black hoodies without crying anymore.) that wasn't quite warm enough, and kneeling in the damp grass in front of Gerard's grave. They would've been quite happy to know that their tombstone was right next to Mikey's. Frank visited them at least twice a week, or at least, he tried to. Over the past couple of weeks, he'd been pretty busy.

But he'd had to come today. With a sigh, Frank traced the engraving on the grave lightly. GERARD ARTHUR WAY. They had died far too young, at age seventeen. Frank was nineteen, and he knew that life was worth living, not ending. He just wished that Gerard had realized that sooner. Blinking to hold back the tears that would still unexpectedly surface, Frank started talking to Gerard, wishing that they were still there to hear him. "Hey, Gee. I still miss you. I'm sorry it's been so long since I last visited. I've been pretty busy. And. . .I, uh, I have a new boyfriend. His name is Patrick, and I think you'd like him. He almost reminds me of you sometimes.

"I still haven't forgotten you, though. I never will." Frank closed his eyes for a brief moment and breathed in deeply, casting his gaze upon the sky. "Why'd you have to leave, Gerard? Why didn't you ever just talk to me? I would've listened, Gee. I would've done anything to save you. I love you. Even now, I love you. I'm trying to move on like you asked, but it's not easy. It's hard as fuck, if I'm honest."

Running a hand through his messy hair absentmindedly, Frank swallowed the lump forming in his throat. "Anyway. I don't know if you remember what I told you about Pete last time I visited. He was, uh, getting pretty bad with the coke. But I finally made him look at what he'd become, and he agreed to join a group. He's not himself yet, but I think he's getting there. I hope so, at least.

"Your mom's still not the same. I still try to go see her sometimes, check up and all that. I'm going by your house after this, actually. She misses you and Mikey so much. She never deserved what she's gone through. Look, Gee, I'm not going to yell at you again. I've done more than enough of that already. But I haven't really forgiven you yet. You didn't have to leave, you know. You should've talked to me, or your mom, or someone. We were all there for you. I just wish that you could've seen that."

Frank blinked rapidly as he continued, trying to prevent the flow of tears that wasn't far away. "I'm not going to pretend to understand why you killed yourself, because I honestly have no idea. But whatever it was, I'm having a hard time believing that it was enough to leave behind what you did. You were so important, Gee. You were going somewhere in life. You had decent grades, and your music was beautiful, and _you_ were beautiful. I hope you know that I've listened to that last song that you left me a million and one times now. Gerard, I don't know where you are, if you're anywhere. But I hope you're happy. I hope that you're happy knowing that you left me and Pete and your mom here alone. I hope that your fucking flight was worth it!"

Without really being aware of what he was doing, Frank had started shouting at the cold piece of stone in front of him. When he did realize, though, he sank back, defeated. It was pointless, after all. Getting angry wouldn't bring Gerard back. Nothing would. "I never told you about the first month or so after it happened, did I, Gee?" he asked, voice low and barely steady. "Well, for those first long weeks, all I really thought about was joining you. And I wanted to. I really fucking wanted to. But guess what?

"I didn't. I'm still here, Gee, because I saw that while this world may suck at times, suicide doesn't solve anything. It just makes everything a hell of a lot worse for the people you leave behind." The inevitable tears were now falling, small drops of liquid heartbreak rolling down Frank's cheeks. "What I'm trying to say here is that I miss you, Gee. I thought that we were going to have a life together, a future. But you killed yourself and left me here. And one day, I'm going to be an old man, and I'm going to think back to high school and I'm going to say, ‘I remember that one kid I dated for a couple of months. They were nice; I fell in love for the first time that year. Shame that they committed suicide.’ And then I'll turn to my husband and smile, and remember all of the great memories I made over the years because I chose to stay." Frank was practically sobbing by that point, barely able to speak. Though it was pointless, he wiped away the tears streaming down his face and choked out a few more words.

"I love you, Gee. Always will." That was about all that he could manage before he was crying again, just so overcome with the pain of Gerard being gone. Sure, it had been two years, but the wounds still felt fresh. He remembered the entire day of January 17th in perfect, devastatingly crystal clarity. Hearing the news. Sitting in Gerard's bedroom for hours, playing the recording on repeat and sobbing until he was nothing but a dry husk of who he used to be. Greeting Mrs. Way with an embrace and unspoken condolences. Trying so hard to comprehend that Gerard was truly gone. Their funeral had been held on January 24th. It was a small affair, somber friends and family dressed in black. Mr. Way had showed up, full of regrets for letting his two children slip away without a good father. Frank had just been numb.

Pete had only gotten worse after. Valentine's Day was rough for both him and Frank, and they spent it high and drunk, respectively. After that, though, Frank committed to being sober. The same could not be said for Pete, who well and truly became a cocaine addict. He wasn't far from death when Frank finally took a firm role in helping who had become his best and only friend. For weeks after, Frank would go to call Gerard absentmindedly, before the truth hit him again. Each time was a bullet in the gut. About a year and a half later, though, he knew that he wouldn't be able to spend the rest of his life wishing that he could change the path. He started talking to people other than Pete again, met Patrick. The two officially became a couple in August, over a year after Gerard's death.

Frank was slowly patching up the hole that Gerard had left. It would always be there, he knew that. Gerard had been his first and strongest love. But he recognized that he had to keep living. So each day, Frank would try a little more to shrink the hole, or fill it, or at least move it out of the way. Most days, it actually kind of worked. In fact, most days, Frank could call himself okay, even good on occasion. Most days.

With a shuddering breath, Frank slowed his sobs and composed himself, rising slowly and brushing the grass from his jeans. "I should be going. I told your mom I'd be there before noon," he told the tombstone. And then he was slowly walking away. When he reached the gate of the cemetery, Frank glanced back at the grave one last time.

"Bye, Gee."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...and it's over. wow. I hope you didn't completely hate the story:) let me know what you thought with kudos or comments. have a marvelous day/night:)  
>  STAY ALIVE I-/

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This entire fic is already completed, so the rest should be up very soon:)


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